


Summer Rain

by bluelikeskies



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Dry Humping, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, War, arent tags just spoilers, ch 7 brought the rating up yall, tags make me nervous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelikeskies/pseuds/bluelikeskies
Summary: Born into the Uchiha-Senju war, Uzumaki Naruto of Senju sneaks out to the river, where he meets a dark-haired boy who looks at him like he knows every secret in the world and wouldn't mind sharing them all.
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 71
Kudos: 215





	1. Prologue: The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've come again with a story I had originally published to fanfiction.net. It's a few years old and in need of many edits! If you've read it before, feel free to go through it again here(: I'm changing quite a bit of the storyline, because there was something about the other one that just didn't sit right with me. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *Notes for story: Naming in the story is a little odd because I've changed some relations to keep people grouped into Uchiha and Senju. Kushina is Hashirama and Mito's daughter. The Uzumaki and Senju families are of the same ranking when they formed an alliance under Senju, so Kushina and Naruto are both Uzumaki ___ of Senju. Minato, however, is from a smaller family, so his last name is not passed down to Naruto in this case.
> 
> *This story is both NaruSasu and SasuNaru. Yes, you get both.

Two hours past midnight, the sky begins to cry. Its tears flutter over leaves in a light mist. When the earth is damp, the mist condenses into heavy streams, pouring from full clouds. Energy rises and light cuts through the hushed blanket of night. The night sings its prayers in low rumbles. Deep inside the heart of the noble Uchiha House, a young black-haired boy sleeps in his futon with a belly full of rainbow dango, oblivious to the great sorrow of the world outside.

The boy stirs at the feeling of wetness on his cheek, but in his drowsiness decides to ignore it. Just as he is lulled back to the edge of slumber, a drop of wetness lands on his forehead and slips down to his temple. Above him, he hears a soft hiccup. He lifts heavy eyelids to find his mother crouched above him, weeping in the darkness.

“Kaasan?” he murmurs, sitting up. In moments, his bloodline-enhanced eyes adjust to the darkness, and his acute eyesight makes out the wet splashes of crimson in his mother’s white festival kimono, red bleeding into carefully sewn tendrils of the Uchiha fire. As a boy born into war, the sight of blood is nothing new. In the distance, he makes out sounds of battle from the patter of rain against the roof. He knows that these sounds are too close to be a faraway battle—the clan is under attack.

Uchiha Mikoto smiles through the tears falling down her cheeks. She presses the bundle she had been holding against her chest into the arms of her eldest son, and tells him with a breaking voice, “The Senju are here. Take Sasuke, and run. Take care of him.”

The boy looks into his mother’s pleading eyes and understands that this is the last time he will see her. He nods, taking his baby brother’s life into his arms. His mother holds him close and presses a kiss into his hair. “Itachi, I love you. Know that, and find it in yourself to forgive me one day. I couldn’t protect you two, but I need you to protect Sasuke. You must go. Be strong.”

The sounds of war drift closer with each passing breath. Mikoto rises to her feet and pushes her son out of the room. She pushes him out the back door of their home, and watches as her five-year-old boy sprints away from her.

* * *

Itachi runs with his baby brother pressed to his heart, each bare foot leaving small imprints in the mud, each breath racking through his chest. Far behind him, his family members continue to fall, one by one, until a snow-haired Senju general calls for the raid to end. The Senju part from Uchiha territory, leaving behind a trail of bloody footprints quickly washed away in the rain.

Itachi is fast, but it takes two of his strides to match one of a grown man’s. He enters the forest that separates the two clan territories long before the Senju do, but he is barely halfway through the dense woods when the pounding footsteps begin to close in. He can sense that they are slightly to his left; if he is careful, he can let them outrun him without detection. But the rain makes the ground slick, and as a flash of light breaks the sky, his small foot slips on a loose root.

The night releases a low rumble.

In his descent, he twists to the side, landing on his back with a grunt and a dull thud. The thunder fades out, leaving behind only the soft patter of rain. His baby brother, startled by the sudden jerk, lets out a single cry. Itachi holds him close to his chest, but he can hear sharp words being exchanged by the group of men. He catches the sound of two men racing through the undergrowth in his direction.

He scrambles up, slipping a few times in his haste. Adrenaline races through him as he bolts through the woods, his heart pounding against his brother’s cheek. His strides are too small. He finds a large bush and dives underneath it. Inside, he breathes once, twice, then kisses his baby brother’s forehead and places him on the damp ground. He tucks him firmly into his bundled blanket. “I’ll come back for you, Sasuke. I promise.”

Itachi climbs out from the thick bush and sees his footprints in the mud. He looks back one last time before taking off in the opposite direction. He can hear the men running to Sasuke, and he lets out a yell. They pursue him. He runs, and does not return.

* * *

On the other side of the forest, tucked in the warmth of the Uzumaki House of Senju, lies a laboring mother. Uzumaki Kushina of Senju takes another unsteady breath, gripping her husband’s hands until she cuts off his circulation. She heaves, her fiery hair plastered against a forehead beaded with sweat. Pain grips her to the bone, but all she can do is push, push, push. She breathes and pushes until she hears the sweet screech of her firstborn child.

“A boy,” says Senju Tsunade. She catches the slippery baby and wraps the newborn in a blanket. Bright flowers of blood sprinkle the cloth as she clips the umbilical cord.

Kushina smiles through her tears and exhaustion as she holds her firstborn. She glances at his tuft of golden hair and says to her husband, “He’s blonde!”

Namikaze Minato chuckles softly as he stretches out his sore hand. “Seems like he is.”

“I was hoping he’d have Uzumaki’s red hair,” says Kushina. She laughs. “But it’s okay, he’s perfect.”

Minato chuckles and presses a soft kiss to his wife’s head. “He is.”

In that moment, the leader of the Senju bursts through the doors in a bubble of excitement. Kushina hands the infant to her excited father, who smiles down at his new grandson. He takes a minute to admire the blue-eyed boy, overflowing with compliments, before turning to Minato, “I understand that naming traditions are beginning to change, but I would still like to give this child the name of the prevailing clan in the marriage.”

The new father nods respectfully at the commander. As the yoshi, he had taken on the Senju last name when he wed Kushina. “I have no objections.”

Kushina kisses her husband on the cheek before turning to her father, and says, “The first name remains as we have chosen.”

The commander nods happily and nips his right thumb, breaking skin. He presses it again the child’s forehead. “I, Senju Hashirama, hereby welcome Uzumaki Naruto of Senju to the world as an honorable member of the Senju clan.”

As if in giddy agreement, newly named Uzumaki Naruto of Senju gurgles at his grandfather, who responds with a hearty laugh.

* * *

Deep in the dense forest, a young Uchiha Sasuke sleeps, unaware of his family’s fate and the sky’s sorrow. Curled around him is a cerulean spirit taking the shape of a two-tailed feline. The forest spirit shields the infant from the falling rain, leaving him dry and warm.

**_Matatabi, what are you doing?_ **

The feline lifts her head to find her curious friend peering at the sleeping child.

 ** _It’s a baby_** ,she says, delighted. **_I found him._**

**_It’s a human. Get rid of it._ **

**_Oh, Kurama. He’s harmless. Look._** Matatabi shifts away so that the great fox spirit can peer closer at the baby boy. His nine tails sway from side to side with his irritation and curiosity.

**_You know what humans do to us._ **

**_He’s only an infant. We can raise him to be different._** The feline looks upon the child affectionately. In that moment, Gyūki, the eight-tailed bull spirit, joins them. He gently prods the baby’s cheek with a tentacle tail, and laughs when Sasuke scrunches up his face.

 ** _It’ll be fun,_** he says. **_I’ve been rather bored lately._**

Kurama huffs, but does not protest. He will never admit this, but deep inside, he finds a small twinkle of excitement. He sees a small silk ribbon peeking out of the boy’s blanket, and tugs it out. Bringing it up to his face, he inspects the embroidering. A part of it had been snipped clean off—perhaps intentionally—but he can read the remaining letters. **_Sasuke._**

The scarlet fox raises his head as the storm begins to lift at the crack of dawn.

* * *

At the entrance of the Senju Compound, snow-haired Senju Tobirama kneels before his clan leader. Dampness seeps into his uniform as his left knee digs into the wet dirt. Behind him, his loyal unit mimics his position, heads low. Hashirama stands at the doorway of his home in his white yukata, dark hair billowing in the breeze. His mouth is set into a deep frown as his stern gaze takes in the men before him. Fourteen men. His brother returned six short.

He shouldn’t have been returning from anything at all.

“Senju Tobirama,” he says. His brother rises and the two walk into the Commandant Room. He orders the guards out with a wave of his hand and slides the shōji door shut behind him. “It has come to my understanding that you have disobeyed my orders and led a direct attack on the Uchiha. In return, we have lost six men.”

“It was a prime opportunity,” explains Tobirama. “The Uchiha had just celebrated the Fire Festival—sake was abundant. Defense was not.”

“You lost six perfectly healthy Senju.”

Tobirama nods, closing his eyes. “We will pay our deepest respects. However, we were able to take out Uchiha Fugaku and Izuna. Without his son and brother, Madara is short two Head Generals. We took out a third of the clan; the Uchiha are weakened.”

“It was the night of their Fire Festival.” Hashirama’s brows come together as he realizes what this must mean. “Tobirama, how could you have been able to tell warrior from civilian?”

The silence answers his question louder than spoken words. The clan may have left sentinels on the outskirts of the compound, but everyone else would have been in festival kimonos. Aside from the recognizable faces of Uchiha Madara and his Head Generals, both warriors and civilians would have looked the same.

“Anija, you have to recognize that what I did has benefitted the Senju.”

Hashirama considers this, but he cannot accept it. “We, Senju, have much more respect for tradition than that. We must not lose ourselves to battle.”

The man’s red eyes shine as he scoffs, “There is no room for respect in a time of war.”

“We must draw lines, or we become nothing.”

Hashirama may have lived during a time without war, but his brother was born and raised by it. They are only seven years apart, but those seven years meant that Hashirama was taught to paint mountains by pressing a wet brush against a blank canvas while his younger brother was taught to defend those very mountains by sinking his katana into the heart of an Uchiha. When Senju Itama and Senju Kawarama had their breaths stolen by Uchiha blades, Tobirama had disappeared. Two days later, he had returned soaked in blood—none of it his own—and said only three words, “For my brothers.”

Tobirama arches an eyebrow at his brother’s burdened expression. He opens his mouth to question it, but Hashirama interrupts, “I am relieving you of your position.”

Tobirama is not surprised. When he charged his men into Uchiha territory, when he slit the throats of Uchiha Izuna and Uchiha Fugaku, he knew that his intentions of bringing victory for the Senju would bring consequences from his clan’s kind leader.

“My dear otouto, you are a great man,” Hashirama says softly, placing a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “But you must also learn what it takes to be a good one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just want to preface that this story is going to be Narusasunaru. You'll get both NaruSasu and SasuNaru. The last time I posted this story on fanfiction.net a few years ago, a few readers expressed their disappointment as they thought it was just going to be SasuNaru, so I just wanted to clarify!


	2. Part 1: The River

When Uzumaki Naruto of Senju is two months old, his mother peers at him as he dozes in his crib. Her eyebrows furrow and she chews on her lip, softly running a delicate finger over her firstborn’s whiskered cheek. Uzumaki Mito stands on the other side of the crib, gazing fondly at her grandson.

“He was born with clear cheeks,” Kushina says to her mother. “But with each passing day, these marks become more prominent. At first I thought he scratched his face, but now I’m not exactly sure what is going on.”

Mito appears to be in deep thought before responding. “It is said that the Uzumaki have a strong bond to the nine-tailed fox spirit of the forest. Some say it is because our ancestors once consumed a tail during the War of Spirits, and others say it is a result of a deep friendship many, many years ago. The spirit of the fox is passed down from parent to child. Typically, it is seen in the red of our hair.”

Kushina touches her own fiery hair, eyebrows furrowing. “Naruto is blonde.”

“Exactly. I believe the spirit has simply found another way to reveal itself,” she says. “Or, perhaps it is stronger in him.” 

“He should be fine,” Minato pipes up as he enters the room and joins his wife’s side. “He’s a strong boy.”

“Yes, he is,” she agrees. She hopes.

* * *

True to his noble name, Uzumaki Naruto of Senju grows up to be a willful, intelligent boy. But intelligence is not easily contained. His curiosity brings the six-year-old to all corners of the Senju district, much to his mother’s dismay. Scrolls and problem sets are ignored as the boy turns to explore the outside world. He weaves between the legs of training Senju soldiers, scales from tree to tree of the compound, and lands in the lap of his handsome grandfather, who shares stories of great battles and adventures.

On some days, much like this one, Naruto finds his way out of the Senju district through a small hole in a wall tucked behind a bush. He sprints down to the forest, picking up spare branches and pebbles along his way, and stops by the bubbling stream. He squats in the greenery, throwing in one pebble or stick at a time as he sings,

_“Hitotsu, hito yori inemuri, Shukaku_

_Futatsu, faiyā moete-ru, Matatabi_

_Mittsu, mizu nara makasero, Isobu_

_Yottsu, yōgan atsui ze, Son Gokū_

_Itsutsu, itsudemo kake-ashi, Kokuō_

_Muttsu, muri sezu awatezu, Saiken_

_Nanatsu, nanafushi sora tobu, Chōmei_

_Yattsu, yappari "wī" da ze, Gyūki_

_Kokonotsu, kokon to saikyō, Kurama_

_Dōdō sorotta bijū no nakama_

_Choi muzu da kedo ii namae_

_Minna rippa-na namae da ne_

_Minna suteki-na namae da ne.”_

He hears a sudden rustle in the bushes behind him, and spins around to see a scarlet fox step out of the undergrowth, its nine tails billowing around it. The stunning creature, fur rippling like tendrils of fire, continues his journey to the bank of the river until he spots the blonde boy. Normally, he would continue walking, his spirit cloak concealing himself from the human eye. Yet, this blonde boy’s blue gaze follows his every movement. When the fox spirit stops by the bank and returns the stare, the boy waves his hand at the creature. A blinding smile lights up his face and he says with full certainty, “Kurama!”

The boy turns his head to watch the ripples of the bubbling stream curl into themselves. He tosses a pebble into the ripple, disturbing the natural curves of the water. The fox spirit notices the three straight markings on the boy’s cheek. He does not completely comprehend how the boy can see him or even know his name, though he feels an underlying kinship tying them together. Kurama is not too keen on humans, but he also knows that there are exceptions once every few centuries. Always an Uzumaki. Sometimes a Senju.

Naruto flings a flat pebble into the stream, surprised when it skips against the water, curving upward into the air one last time before sinking. He tries again, throwing another pebble so it skirts against the water before falling. To his delight, the stone does as he wishes, and he laughs softly. Naruto continues skipping stones until his collection runs out. He straightens up when he is done, stretching with his arms reaching for the sun, and turns his head back to Kurama. However, this time, his eyes pass over the curious fox spirit. He scratches his head, but does not think much of it. He turns and runs back to the Senju compound, little legs pumping and feet kicking up a trail of dust behind him.

Naruto crawls through the hole in the compound wall just as the Senju gates swing open. He joins his grandfather at the front of a crowd. On the other side of the gate stands a tall man with a shock of white hair and rose-colored eyes. The man walks into his grandfather’s open arms.

Hashirama smiles into the embrace. “Welcome home, _otouto_.”

* * *

Outside, Senju festivities for the return of Senju Tobirama begin. Music, dance, and sake are abundant. Inside, Tobirama stands with his arms at his side, eyes taking in the details of his old bedroom. He sees the wooden sword he had used as a child still leaning against the papery wall. He strides across the room, clothed feet making dull sounds against the tatami, and picks it up, blowing off the dust. Inspecting the wooden weapon, he sighs. “Six years is a very long time.”

By the entrance of the room, Hashirama nods. “It is.”

“I have learned much,” Tobirama says. He shrugs out of his dirtied clothes and heads to his closet, picking out a clean kimono. The white fabric smells stale after six years of sitting in his room, untouched. “Not every land has war churning on its soil. Peace is hard to come by, but it can be achieved.”

Hashirama nods. He is glad his brother has been able to experience a life without war. However, there is a familiar spark in Tobirama’s rosy eyes. He raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Tobirama raises his eyes from the ground to meet his brother’s alert gaze, “During my travels, I have heard talk about Uchiha Danzo.”

Hashirama closes his eyes and sighs. Even in a journey to escape war, it seems that his brother will always catch wisps of it in the breeze. He nods, “After the raid you led on the Uchiha, the clan had weakened significantly. Minato, Tsunade, and I were preparing negotiations with the Uchiha. We were close—peace was within our grasp. But before we could close our hands around it, Uchiha Danzo stepped up. And before I could blink, we were on the battlefield once again.”

Tobirama bites his tongue. Negotiating with the Uchiha is like waving a slab of meat in front of a tiger. Sooner or later, the beast would realize the human behind the slab was larger and much more appetizing. “At the edge of Fire Land’s border, I came across a young man named Uzumaki Nagato,” he says. “He is one of the heads of a group that calls themselves ‘Akatsuki.’ A bunch of war orphans searching for peace.”

“What does this have to do with Danzo?” Hashirama asks. If he is surprised his brother became acquainted with an Uzumaki outside the compound, he does not show it.

“It doesn’t really, but the group is trying to work towards peace. I’d say they’re relatively useful as allies in the future. Nagato also talked of a few suspicions regarding the Shimura Clan. They could very well be rumors,” Tobirama says. “Apparently this clan has been unnaturally interested in the powers of the Uchiha. Tombs have been raided, warriors gone missing, eyes stolen. We should be careful.”

“We’re busy enough with the war as it is,” Hashirama says. “The Uchiha can fend for themselves.”

Tobirama nods.

“The Shimura are also a small clan,” says Hashirama. “They don’t hold much power. The Uchiha easily outrank them by military standards.”

“Yes, but the Shimura are well-acquainted with medicinal practices. And hungry for power, as it seems,” Tobirama says.

Hashirama frowns. His younger brother remembers the familiar crease in his brother’s eyes when Hashirama is deep in thought. The information he gathered in his travels cannot be easy to digest. He feels a sharp pang in his chest as he watches his brother struggle internally. Being the leader of a warring clan has taken its toll on the man. New lines decorate his warm eyes, and a few white hairs dust his dark mane. In the past, Tobirama had hated his brother’s seemingly naïve compassion. Now, he truly sees his humanity. He puts a hand on his brother’s bicep, pulling the man out of his trance. “Anija, we can discuss this later. For now, we celebrate. I’m home.”

Hashirama smiles, relieved for the moment, and heaves a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let’s celebrate.”

“I see that young Naruto has grown into quite the child.” Tobirama arches an eyebrow, the corners of his lips rising. “I will give him my training bokken. I think it’s time the boy meets his great-uncle.”

* * *

The first time Naruto lays a hand on a weapon, he feels it is fate. His small fingers grip the worn handle of Tobirama’s bokken, muscles straining as he strikes it against the wooden training post. The dull thud of wood on wood cannot compare to the rush of adrenaline roaring through his veins when he makes his first strike. Behind him, his great-uncle chuckles, his shoulders shaking as he says, “Good form. A natural warrior!”

Naruto steps back and strikes again. He tries for a few spins and twirls, dancing with his wooden sword as he had seen his grandfather’s soldiers do when they train. His heart sings with every prance. He lands another strike on the post and turns his head to Tobirama, panting, “Ne, Tobirama-ojisama, how was that?”

The white-haired man smiles. Minato had mentioned that his son is not very fond of books, but it seems that the time spent exploring Senju grounds and observing training soldiers had not gone to waste. Tobirama reaches out to correct Naruto’s form and ruffles the boy’s hair.

“Good,” he says. “But until you can defeat me, not good enough.”

Naruto pouts, the space between his golden eyebrows crinkling. He thrusts his bokken straight into the air and puffs out his chest, declaring, “Just you wait, Tobirama-ojisama. I will be the best warrior the Senju will ever have!”

* * *

When the Senju heir is not training with Tobirama, he takes his beloved bokken with him to the bubbling river in the woods. When Kushina asks him where he is running off to, he flashes her his best smile.

“Training,” he says, pocketing the onigiri his mother had wrapped up for him in a bright orange cloth. “Tobirama-ojisama is teaching me a new technique today.”

Which is true, to an extent. The onigiri in his pocket nearly falls out as he climbs through the hole in the Senju wall, heart pounding. He leaves the compound often enough for it to be a part of his daily schedule, but the adrenaline rush always remains the same. Excitement thrums in his chest with the knowledge that no one is to leave without permission. His father blames it on the war, but Naruto has never seen war. He hops on his bare feet outside the safety of his walls, oblivious to the blood being spilled miles away.

By the river, he rehearses the moves that his great-uncle imparted onto him. With each spin, he comes closer and closer to perfecting the deadly dance of combat.

Naruto revels in the feeling of soft grass between his toes. He slides forward, about to thrust his sword forward in a finishing blow when he feels a sharp, focused pain in the back of his head. Naruto spins, offsetting his balance, and lands on the river-softened ground. He squints in pain, but looks up fast enough to see a small, pale foot disappear into the trees. Beside his leg, a round pebble lands with a muffled thud. He picks it up, feeling its smoothness. No ridges, no cracks. How peculiar. Naruto jumps to his feet and runs into the trees, his bokken in one hand, the pebble in the other.

With each step deeper into the woods, the ground becomes increasingly unsteady underfoot. Roots and brambles twist into one another, creating small crevices and bumps perfect for tripping a running child. Naruto dodges each obstacle adeptly, but it seems that whoever he is chasing is even more skilled at navigating the woven forest floor. His heart pounds in his chest as he pushes himself forward. If there is one thing going for him, it is his endless supply of stamina. The footsteps ahead slow down. He can hear himself closing in—can hear the panting just on the other side of the trees—and sees a figure come into view.

He doesn’t have any time to register the figure before him—only just noting that they are about the same height—before throwing himself at it. The figure yelps. Naruto drops his bokken as they land in the leafy undergrowth, a fallen branch digging into his side.

Naruto grunts in pain as a fist meets his left shoulder, hard. He reels his head back and rams it into the forehead of his opponent. Using the momentum, he throws his weight forward so that he is sitting on the other’s abdomen with his elbows and knees holding his opponent down. He lifts his golden head, chest heaving with exertion, and takes his first glance at the other’s face.

At first, Naruto thinks he is looking at the evening sky. He loses himself in the depth of the night and in the splash of stars. But as the boy beneath him frowns and struggles against his hold, Naruto is thrown back into the present. He looks at the face just a few centimeters from his own, taking in the creases between delicate eyebrows and the downward curve of thin lips.

“Let go of me,” the other boy says, his voice high with youth and slightly nasally. He struggles again, but the Senju heir is strong.

“You threw a rock at my head,” Naruto huffs. He watches as the other boy’s cheeks flush a light shade of red as he holds out the pebble.

The boy turns his head to the side, his dark hair twisting in the forest dirt. “I was practicing.”

“So was I, but I wasn’t throwing anything at anyone,” Naruto points out. He releases the other boy and gets up, shaking off the dirt on his grey yukata. As he pats at his clothing, he notices the emptiness of his pockets. The dark-haired boy sits up and sees a triangle-shaped package wrapped in a bright orange cloth. He picks it up and pulls open the cloth wrap with nimble fingers.

“What is this?” The boy stares at the triangular rice ball.

Naruto looks at him, incredulous. He snatches his snack and holds it close to his chest, “ _Oi_ , it’s mine.”

“What is it?” The boy repeats, still sitting on the ground, cross-legged and curious.

“Onigiri. My mother made it,” Naruto holds the rice ball in front of his mouth, about to chomp down.

At that exact moment, the dark-haired boy’s stomach releases a squeal of hunger. He holds his hands over his abdomen, embarrassed, and looks away. Naruto pauses. He stands motionless for a moment, before sighing and holding out his snack. “Here.”

“You said it was yours,” says the boy.

Naruto plops himself on the ground, still holding out the onigiri. “You can have it.”

The other boy takes the rice ball and slowly takes a bite. As he chews, his face lights up and shines as bright as the sun on a summer’s day.

Naruto pockets the pebble that struck his head earlier and retrieves his bokken, which had fallen a few feet away during the scuffle. He turns his face to the ginger sky above, lips pressed together as he notes the setting sun. “I have to be home before sundown.”

He takes off, following the sounds of bubbling water back to the river, and from the river, back to the hole in the Senju compound wall just before the sun gives its last peek over the mountains. When he returns home, Kushina takes one look at his dirtied attire and smacks him over the head. “What happened to you?”

“I, uh, fell.” Naruto sheepishly rubs his head as his mother ushers him into the bath.

Moments later, on his cushioned futon, he is just about to drift off into sleep when his door slides open and his mother pokes her head in.

“Naruto, do you have that orange handkerchief for the onigiri?”

Naruto’s heart accelerates when he realizes he had left it with the forest boy. “I must have lost it. I’m sorry, kaachan.”

Kushina smiles, “That’s fine. Just try not to lose it next time, alright?”

Naruto nods, and before his mother slips away, pipes up, “Kaachan, can you make two onigiri for me tomorrow? Please?”

“Yes, love,” Kushina gives a sweet laugh before sliding the door shut.

Alone in the darkness of his bedroom, Naruto turns to his stomach and reaches under his pillow. His fingers close around a pebble, and he strokes his thumb over its smoothness until he drifts to sleep.

* * *

Minato ruffles his son’s golden hair three days later at the end of their training. “You’re a good fighter, Naruto. But a good warrior must read as well.”

Naruto retaliates in grumbling protests, dodging his father’s hand and folding his arms. His frown is almost comical as he turns to the broad-shouldered man behind Minato. “Can’t be _that_ important. Ne, Jiraiya-sensei?”

Minato sighs after yet another failed attempt to increase his son’s literacy, but Jiraiya only chuckles, the red lines tattooed on his face curving with his smile. “Not every book is boring, y’know. Here, read this one! You were named after the character in this book.”

Naruto’s hands are suddenly grasping a tattered orange book. _Tales of a Gutsy Ninja_.

“Just five pages, alright? If you don’t like it, then you don’t have to finish it,” says Minato.

Naruto nods, taking in the small novel. His namesake. He runs over to the corner of the training arena, and picks up his pack, holding two onigiri and a water flask, that he had deposited before training. He had been asking his mother for two onigiri each day just in case he found the time to sneak out to the river again. Today seems to be the day. He throws the pack over his shoulders and waves at his father and senseias he leaves. “I’m off!”

Letting out a deep breath, Minato angles his head in Jiraiya’s direction. “Where do you think he goes when he runs off like that?”

“Who knows?” Jiraiya shrugs. Then, at seeing his former student’s worried expression, he adds, “They grow up too fast. Let the boy enjoy what time he has left.”

The two men sigh under the weight of their mutual understanding. With Naruto’s training progress, it isn’t long before the boy must forego his carefree life in exchange for one on the battlefield. Tobirama has already commissioned for the blacksmith to wield him his very own blade despite how hesitant Hashirama had been. A warrior must still be a warrior.

On the other side of the compound, Naruto races towards the wall with the hole, waving to each occasional cousin or friend he passes. Most people are busy training and studying during the afternoons. Uzumaki Karin of Senju barely looks up from her scrolls as Naruto calls out a quick greeting. Despite being only two years older than him, she has already begun her focused studies in the art of healing and spends most of her days in the Senju Infirmary, with her head in a stack of scrolls and books. Today, she has with her a younger girl around Naruto’s age. Haruno Sakura of Senju, who has joined the clan not by birth or marriage, but by recent negotiations carried through by Hashirama himself. If the Senju were to gain an advantage in this war, it would be through alliances. _Something the Uchiha are too proud to ever consider_ , his grandfather had said. As a result, the Senju have expanded greatly as they adopted smaller families and clans. Naruto smiles at his cousin and friend, who both glance up and wave before diving back into their studies.

When he reaches the bush hiding his entrance to the outside world, Naruto glances around. Finding no one behind him, he dives into the undergrowth and crawls his way out of the compound. He makes his way down to the river with ease, plopping down in a patch of soft grass.

The water flows slower here, soft bubbling sounds swirling against his eardrums. It’s a hot summer day, but the light breeze does wonders. His bokken lies by his leg as he pulls out his food and orange book and turns to the first page. Then the second, third, fourth, and soon he is halfway through the novel, engrossed in a story about a heroic shinobi named Naruto.

A stone zips by his head suddenly and lands on the water, jumping twice before sinking. Shaken out of the story, Naruto whirls around, dropping his book. It bounces onto the tip of his bokken, flipping the heavier hilt up with enough force to fling the wooden sword into the river. He has barely even registered the surprised look on the forest boy’s face before he dives after his beloved weapon.

The cool water envelopes his body as his arms clumsily close around his bokken. He grips onto it, thrashing and kicking, realizing too late that he does not know how to swim. He throws his head above the surface, taking a breath that turns out to be water instead of air. His wet yukata is heavy as it clings onto his frame. His wooden sword isn’t enough to float his heavier body. His lungs sear with pain, his arms and legs thrashing. Then something is pulling at the collar of his yukata, pulling him up, up, up until his face breaks through the surface of the water. He hugs his sword to his chest as he is dragged to the riverbank and thrown down.

A hand slams into his back. He coughs the river from his lungs. He braces himself on his forearms as he hacks up one mouthful of water after another, one hand clutching his bokken and the other grabbing at the mud beneath him. When his lungs are empty of everything but air, he swings a handful of muck at the boy. Naruto watches with satisfaction as the mud lands squarely on the side of the boy’s face.

“What was that for?” The boy yells and swipes the dirt off his face with an arm. He shakes his head, grimacing as he tries to dislodge what had gotten into his ear.

“ _What was that for_?” Naruto mimics. “ _Teme_ , stop throwing rocks at my—guh!”

A slab of mud lands right in his open mouth. Wet and bitter. Naruto spits out what he can and flings another handful of the sludge at the forest boy.

“I just saved your life, _usuratonkachi_!” The boy doesn’t even attempt to wipe off the mud that lands in his hair. He bends over to grabs two heaving handfuls of the stuff and chucks them at the blonde. “Oos-oo-ra-ton-ka-chi!”

“Teme!” Naruto throws two more handfuls at his opponent. “It’s your fault I almost died in the first place!”

“I was just skipping stones!” Another toss.

Two more. “Well skip them somewhere else!”

“Your fault you can’t swim!” Three in quick recession.

“Your fault my bokken fell in!” A kick. Seeing that it threw the mud into the boy’s neck, he follows with two more.

“Your fault you’re a scaredy-cat!” He’s kicking too now.

“I am not a scaredy-cat, you weird rock-obsessed teme!” Two throws, one kick.

“ _Usuratonkachi_!”

“ _Teme_!”

And then suddenly both are bent over, temporarily blinded by mud. Naruto, fuming with anger, blindly barrels his head forward into the other boy’s middle and throws them both into the shallower water at the edge of the river. The boy knees him in the groin and Naruto punches his shoulder as they roll in the water, effectively rinsing off some of the filth. The two punch and kick until the sun begins to fall. Seeing this, Naruto hauls himself out of the mud. “Sun’s going down. Gotta go, but it’s not over, you hear? Not over!” 

He head-butts the boy one last time—smirks at the grunt—before running to his belongings. He sticks the book in his pack and holds the two onigiri, hesitating. He turns to the boy, who is standing by the river, as drenched in mud and water as he is. He jogs down to him and unwraps one of the onigiri, pressing it into the other boy’s hands.

“Kaachan wants the cloth back,” he explains, and begins to run back to the Senju compound.

“Hey,” the other boy calls. Naruto turns around to look at him. “My name is Sasuke.”

He smiles, “I’m Naruto.”

* * *

Under Tsunade’s watchful eye, Sakura dabs at the scrapes along Naruto’s skin with boiled cloth and alcohol. He winces dramatically, scrunching his face up. “Ouch!”

She glares at him and dabs harder.

Kushina eyes the bruises adorning her son’s face and arms. She runs the tips of her fingers over them. “I really ought to tell Tobirama to tone down the training.”

“It’s odd, though, since the others aren’t coming in with nearly as many injuries.” Tsunade frowns at Sakura’s rough scrubbing, but doesn’t comment. She presses on the red bump on Naruto’s forehead, pulling her hand away when he shrinks back. Definitely swollen. “I doubt this is a part of training.”

“I’m just clumsy!” Naruto exclaims.

“And muddy. And wet,” Kushina says. “ _Where_ did you go to get so wet?”

Naruto clamps his mouth shut and watches Sakura rub ointment into his scrapes. He sighs at the coolness of the medicine, and leans into the cold press that Tsunade places against his forehead.

“ _Uzumaki Naruto of Senju_.” Kushina’s eyes bear a frightening spark. “Answer my question.”

“Alright, _alright_ ,” he whines, presenting his best pout. “Kiba and I, uh, did some extra training today. We wrestled and stuff. He lost and threw his water flask at me. Okay?”

Tsunade plucks a small, dry twig from Naruto’s mess of hair just as Kushina leads him out of the infirmary. She brings it to her face for closer inspection. Smells it once, then again. It doesn’t belong to any of the trees in the compound.

* * *

With each coming day, Naruto gets busier and busier. Tobirama adds new routines to his training sessions. Jiraiya presses more books into his hands, each one telling a new tale of bravery and honor. His father leaves for weeks at a time now and returns from the front lines exhausted. In his father’s absences, he sometimes catches his mother staring off into the distance, wringing her hands until they turn bright red. 

One training session soon turns into two, then three. He returns home sore, exhausted. But twice a week, he finds time to escape the compound and wind his way down to the bubbling river where his troubles flow away with the water and Sasuke.

When he had returned home the other night, his mother took one glance at his black eye and filth, and gave him a thorough scolding. Since then, he mindfully avoids muddy spars with Sasuke, but their fighting hasn’t ended there. Small scuffles soon turn into an ongoing rivalry, and underneath that, an unspoken bond of friendship. During the day, they fight over the smallest things—the furthest rock-skipper, the highest jumper, the best artist, the swiftest runner. And after Sasuke teaches Naruto how to swim, the fastest swimmer.

When they run out of ideas in which to compete, Sasuke takes Naruto to his small makeshift arena, where he practices his aim by throwing rocks at various targets he had set up. Sasuke squeezes black sap from bush leaves and draws targets on the tree trunks. Naruto finds a terribly drawn sketch of him on one of the target trees and howls, “I don’t look like that!”

“Yes, you do,” says Sasuke. He throws a rock straight at tree-Naruto’s forehead, much to the other boy’s comical dismay.

Naruto squeezes a few leaves for himself and hastily draws a lopsided Sasuke on the tree next to his own image. He tosses handfuls of rocks at it, but finds that his aim is terrible. He opts for showing off a few of his moves with his bokken.

At one point, Naruto makes out a bright red tail occasionally peeping out from a bush a few yards away. He waves at it, “Yo, Kurama!”

The fox spirit raises his head and prances over to the clearing. **_Who are you?_**

Sasuke comes over, eyebrows raised in confusion. “You know Kurama?”

“I do,” Naruto exclaims, pointing to his own whiskered cheeks. “But you know him, too?”

The dark-haired boy resists the urge to throw another rock at Naruto’s head as he hops onto a billowing tail. “’Course, he’s family.”

It starts to click in Naruto’s head as he watches his friend with the forest spirit. Sasuke, who was always in the forest. Sasuke, who never had onigiri. Sasuke, who never spoke of his parents or family. Sasuke, who was truly from the forest.

 ** _Who are you?_** Kurama asks again, irritated.

“Naruto,” he replies, wary of leaving in his clan name. Hashirama is adamant that he never give it out, despite the fact that as far as the clan leader knew, Naruto has never stepped foot outside the compound.

Narrowing his eyes, Kurama sniffs the blonde child. He remembers him from a brief meeting by the river many months ago. The whiskered boy who sang the song of the spirits. He feels a deep, warm tug towards a boy. **_This human is not so bad._**

Sasuke pounces off the spirit’s tail and resumes flinging stones at tree-Naruto’s head with trained accuracy. Seeing this, Naruto yells out a protest and runs back to strike his bokken at tree-Sasuke. Son Gokū drops from a branch and lands next to Kurama, a deep rumble vibrating in his chest as he chuckles. **_You’ve gone soft, Kurama._**

**_Shut up._ **

The sun always makes its way down the sky, and Naruto, like always, stops arguing or punching or rock-throwing or hacking his bokken into tree-Sasuke’s face to press an onigiri into Sasuke’s hands before heading home.

“But ramen tastes better,” he adds.

* * *

The silk of Sasuke’s yukata is soft between his fingers. Grey and delicate. Sometimes, Sasuke looks like a painting to him—blacks and whites and all the shades in between.

“So,” Naruto says, pulling on the sleeve. “Why don’t you run around naked?”

The sleeve is yanked from his grasp, and he looks up to find dark hair framing flushed cheeks. “What?”

_Like a painting with a splash of rose._

“I mean,” He reaches for the sleeve again, entranced. The silk glimmers in the sunlight like silver. “You’re from the forest. Forest animals are always naked.”

Sasuke pulls the sleeve from his fingers again and rolls his eyes. “I’m from the forest, but I’m not wild.”

“That made no sense,” he says, frowning as he tries to piece together the sentence.

“Think a little harder and your brain might melt.” A blonde head is lightly swatted at. “Usuratonkachi.”

“Oi!” Naruto holds his head, pouting. “Teme!”

“Chōmei makes them for me,” Sasuke says, admiring his own yukata. “Or I get cold.”

“But what about when you get too warm?” Naruto laughs and Sasuke turns his head away in embarrassment, ears bright red.

“Oi, oi,” he leans forward, almost cackling. “Did you know your ears get red when—ow! Sasuke!”

* * *

“My books are going missing,” Jiraiya says, scratching at his white mane as he shuffles through his bookshelf. “I’m glad I got Naruto to read, but damn—he’s moving my entire library!”

Minato chuckles, “He swiped a few of my empty scrolls and brushes as well.”

“Is he writing?” The older man spins around in excitement, eyebrows raised.

“Well, I’ve definitely seen a few scribbles the last time I peeked—”

“Not his writing, though,” Kushina pipes up from the other end of the library. She doesn’t pull her gaze from the section on the great clans as she runs her fingers over the worn titles. “Too neat. Too basic—just hiragana and a bit of kanji, from what I’ve seen.”

“That’s odd,” Jiraiya frowns. “Perhaps he’s teaching someone.”

“Maybe that Haruno girl?”

“Sakura reads as well as we do,” Tsunade interrupts from the corner, where she sits with a book in her lap. “Probably better than you, Jiraiya.”

Jiraiya ignores the comment. “Or that Inuzuka boy?”

“Perhaps,” Minato hums.

* * *

The trees inside the Senju compound are predictable, friendly. Naruto had been hopping around on their branches since he could run. The trees in the forest, however, are erratic—the wilderness guiding each growth and extension. The one before him is a complete stranger.

“Are you sure?” Sasuke asks, looking from the tree to Naruto. “I’ve done this all my life.”

He huffs a shallow laugh. Fear pricks at the tips of his fingers, but he puffs out his chest. “Good, because so have I.”

The bark is rough against his hands as he hauls himself onto the first branch, Sasuke close behind. Untrimmed branches and leaves scrape against his neck with each movement. He breathes deeply for a moment before swinging over to a higher branch. Higher, higher, higher. The earth quickly fades away from his reality until there is only the sun with open arms.

_Embrace me._

He reaches for the next branch in earnest, but his eyes are full of sky and sun and he does not comprehend the small width his fingers close around. The branch snaps under his weight and he flies, but not to the sun.

 _No_ —

A warm hand wraps around his ankle, so tight it almost hurts. The world turns upside down as he swings from where Sasuke has caught him. His ragged breaths shake his lungs, his heart threatening to break his chest. He had never fallen before.

“All your life, huh?”

“Sasuke, pull me up.”

The boy grunts under his weight. “Wait—wait, hold on—”

“Just pull me up, pull—”

“Hey, I got you.” His stomach comes in contact with a branch and he wraps his limbs around it, reveling in its solidity. Sasuke releases his ankle, leaning back to breathe, “I had you.”

Naruto looks into the darkness of Sasuke’s eyes, finding warmth and—he squints—a haughty gleam. “Oi, _teme_ , are you laughing at me?”

“But— _usuratonkachi_ —all your life?”

“Oi!”

He tries to leap up, but slips and instead settles for a delicate seat on the branch. His legs swing over the patch of dirt he almost broke his neck on. “Thank you.”

Sasuke smiles, face turned to the sun. The light spins in his eyes and for a second, all Naruto sees is fire.

* * *

“Oi, Sasuke,” Naruto says as he presses an onigiri into waiting hands. “My tenth year is in two days. There’s going to be a festival, with lots of food—better than onigiri!—and I officially become a warrior. Would you want to come?”

Sasuke’s eyes light up. Naruto is worried he may squeeze the contents from the onigiri. “You mean come home with you?”

“Yes—well, we can pretend your clan is negotiating alliances with my family—as long as we avoid the old men, we should be okay,” says Naruto. “There’s a hole you can come through, but you have to be careful. No one knows about it. It’s what I use to get out here.”

“Oh.”

Naruto pulls Sasuke to the edge of the Senju compound, taking him to the chipped out hole in the wall. He watches Sasuke tilt his head up and down along the wall in awe. His mouth opens and closes seven times before he finally speaks.

“How many trees did it take to make this?”

Naruto laughs. “I have no idea.”


	3. Part 2: The Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! It's taken a while since my last update, because I've had a hard time deciding where I wanted to take this story. I've figured out a new direction, and it's going to be a bit different from my previous version! You'll see soon(:

On Naruto’s tenth birthday, the Senju clan throws a massive festival. In a time of war, ten means receiving his very own katana. Steel folded into itself a thousand times and enforced by the spirits and prayers. Made for the Senju heir and believed to cut through anything with sheer will. The festival celebrates this, but also works well to hide the fact that Naruto will soon be entering the front lines, drenching his hands in Uchiha blood.

Naruto is late.

He waits by the wall with a hole in it, watching the bushes for any sign of movement, fingers twisting the cloth of his yukata.

“Naruto! Where have you been?” his mother calls. He flips his head and catches her marching towards him, unimpressed. “What are you doing? You’re late!”

“Sorry, kaachan—ah!”

As he is dragged away, he chances one last look at the bushes for signs of Sasuke. There are none.

* * *

Draped in an ebony silk haori, Naruto sits on his knees in front of the Uzumaki House of Senju, his head low as he listens to the clan members gathering at the event. His eyes follow the heads of the crowd, trying to seek out dark eyes and uneven hair. Before him, Hashirama, clad in a white kimono, stands grasping the ends of the new katana. He raises it into the air, “I, Senju Hashirama, head of the Senju clan, hereby present to Uzumaki Naruto of Senju his first blade _,_ forged in the mountains of the Fire country. This event marks the makings of a new Senju warrior. Uzumaki Naruto of Senju will train with his katana over the next few moons, and when he is ready, will enter our ranks as a noble warrior.”

Hashirama lowers the sheathed sword into his grandson’s waiting hands. Naruto accepts the heavy blade and says, “I am honored to serve and protect the Senju clan as a faithful warrior in search of peace.”

The crowd cheers in support of this beloved boy, and Naruto stands, legs sore from kneeling, smiling at his parents as he tucks the katana into his belt. He breaks the formality of the event with a loud “hey!” and waves at the friends he’s made over the past few years—Sakura, Shikamaru, Chouji, Ino, Kiba, Shino, Lee, and Tenten, many of whom have already received their katanas if they had trained to be warriors. He laughs as he runs over to them, jumping on his feet in exhilaration.

“Can we see? Can we see?” Kiba shoves forward, nodding at his friend’s new sword. Naruto is all smiles as he reaches to his side and pulls the blade from its scabbard. Not all the way, but enough for it to shine its beautiful edge into the eyes of admirers. The Uzumaki and Senju symbols are etched into the hilt in gold.

“Nice, Naruto-san!” Lee claps a hand on Naruto’s back. “Very nice!”

“Thanks, Lee,” he smiles, then upon seeing the dango in Chouji’s hand, feels himself salivate. “I’m hungry. Ne, Chouji, don’t you still owe me ramen?”

Chouji sputters, bits of pink and green shining in his teeth.

* * *

After two bowls of steaming miso ramen, Naruto announces with his finger in the air that he has to take a leak. On his way out, he grabs two skewers of dango from Kiba’s plate. Kiba screeches in protest.

“You take dango to the toilet?”

Naruto dodges his grabby hands. “What, and you don’t?”

He slips back to the bushes and the hole in the wall. He takes a breath, looking at his silk kimono, then shuffles through the hole, dango skewers balanced carefully in his mouth.

“Naruto?”

Sasuke is sitting on the other side of the wall, his knees pulled against his chest. He’s looking at Naruto, dark eyes wide and bright as the moon. His yukata glistens like spun silver. Naruto pulls the skewers of dango from his mouth and hands one to Sasuke.

“Dango,” he says as Sasuke takes it. “They’re sweet. The stick is a bit wet, had to hold it in my mouth”—he jerks his head at the hole—“to get through.”

There’s a silence as Sasuke bites and chews. Naruto sits down next to him, his back against the wall. A splinter presses into his shoulder.

“So,” Sasuke says. “Did you get your katana?”

Naruto nods. “But kaachan had me place it in its shelf before I could do anything.”

“Oh.”

“I can show you tomorrow.”

“How’d you know I was here?”

Naruto shrugs, his mouth full of dango. “Had a fee-wing.”

“Sorry,” Sasuke says. “I got here early and stuck my head through. I’ve never seen so many people before.”

“Oh,” says Naruto. He hadn’t considered that. “I was waiting on the other side, like we agreed.”

“I know,” says Sasuke. “I heard. You were late.”

Naruto tosses his empty skewer into the forest, watching it bounce on its ends before landing in the undergrowth. “If you still want to go, it’s not too late,” Naruto says. Sasuke looks at him. Naruto smiles. He reaches over to press his finger into the creases between Sasuke’s eyebrows. “You’ll be fine. Just remember the disguise. I’ll protect you.”

“Why can’t we just tell them the truth?”

Naruto flushes. “Because, um, I’m actually not allowed to leave those walls. They think I’ve been in the compound my whole life.”

“Locked in there?”

“You don’t have to put it that way.”

“But still.”

When they climb through the hole together, Naruto spends the first two minutes patting the dust from his kimono, mumbling about his parents. He catches the way Sasuke looks at the festival lanterns, hears the audible swallow from Sasuke’s throat. He takes Sasuke’s hand—it’s clammy, trembling, fingers sticky with dango and rough with dirt—and pulls him towards the lights.

At the ramen stand, Naruto orders a single bowl of miso ramen and pushes it at Sasuke. “It’s ramen, ramen!”

Sasuke stares at the chopsticks. Naruto tries to teach him how to hold them, but settles for letting him shovel noodles into his mouth by sliding the chopsticks against the side of the bowl. Sasuke declares that yes, ramen is good, but too wet. To Naruto’s dismay, he prefers onigiri.

Naruto pulls Sasuke from stand to stand, grabbing sweets and presenting them. Sasuke takes a bite of each and offers judgment after each swallow.

“Oi, Naruto!” Kiba calls, waving. “Where’d you go?”

Naruto waves to his friends. As they make their way over, he feels Sasuke grab hold of his haori from behind. He chances a glance at him and sees the way Sasuke looks at the compound walls now, eyes wide as trapped prey. Naruto smiles at him. “You’ll be fine. They’re my friends.”

“Hello,” Lee says, bowing. “I don’t believe we’ve met. My name is Rock Lee.”

Sasuke catches Naruto eyeing him and jerking his chin down. He follows Lee’s movement. “Hi, uh, my name is Sasuke.”

“What family are you from?” asks Kiba. “I haven’t seen you around.”

“Uh, I’m from the Bijuu family,” says Sasuke. “We—”

“—Are still negotiating with us,” Naruto finishes. “Oi, Chouji! You still owe me mochi!”

Chouji throws his hands up. “I just bought you ramen! Two bowls!”

“My, you all seem to be having fun,” a deep voice chuckles. Naruto spins around, attempting to block Sasuke as he smiles at his grandfather and great-uncle. His friends bow deeply and scatter.

“Hashirama-ojisama, Tobirama-ojisama,” Naruto laughs nervously. “Didn’t see you there! We were just going—”

“Who must you be?” Tobirama asks. His rose gaze fix on Sasuke. Naruto, eyes wide, puts a hand to Sasuke’s back and pushes him into a bow. “You look quite familiar, forgive me as I must’ve forgotten your name.” He waves his hand around his head. “It’s the age, you see.”

Sasuke opens his mouth to present the answer he’d practiced, but Hashirama interrupts. “You must be from the Nara family,” he says. “I see it in the hair! I didn’t know Shikamaru had a sister.”

Sasuke pauses. “I’m not a—”

“Yes!” Naruto follows, overzealous. “Her name is Shika—uh—Shikasuke! She’s Shikamaru’s cousin and, um, studies medicine!”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Shikasuke. Interesting name,” says Tobirama. He looks at Sasuke as if he’s trying to remember something. Naruto shoves himself between them with a speech about the night’s ramen—

“Naruto! There you are,” his mother makes her way over, Minato in tow. She turns to Hashirama. “I hope he isn’t terrorizing you, is he?”

“Who’s this?” Minato asks. Sasuke, not quite sure what to do, bows to Minato as he did Lee.

“This is Nara Shikasuke!” Naruto cuts in as soon as Sasuke opens his mouth. He can see Sasuke’s mind working as he looks from Minato to Kushina to Naruto.

“Ah, you must be quite intelligent then,” says Kushina. “Very nice to meet you, Shikasuke. I hope my son is treating you well?”

Sasuke nods.

“Well, if Naruto tries to get you into any trouble with him, you just let me know, all right?” Kushina smiles and touches her hand to his shoulder. He smiles at her.

“Okay, bye!” Naruto cries. He grabs Sasuke’s hand and pulls him towards the wall, swiping two onigiri on the way.

Hashirama watches him go, scratching at his chin with a finger. “Senju and Nara… pretty good family, they are. Decent union there.”

“He just turned ten, anija,” Tobirama says. “Don’t marry him off yet.”

“Better be quick,” Kushina laughs. “She’s very pretty.”

* * *

Naruto is breathless with laughter, his hands full of onigiri and Sasuke. When they reach the bushes hiding the hole in the wall, he lets Sasuke climb through first before following. On the other side, he sees the immediate relief in dark eyes when they are no longer contained within the walls.   
  


“Here,” he says, his breaths coming in rapid beats, pushing both onigiri into Sasuke’s hands.   
  


Sasuke is still panting from their run when Naruto wraps his arms around him, pressing their cheeks together, warm as summer afternoons. “I know that was scary for you. Thank you for coming.”

* * *

Sneaking out of the Senju compound with a heavy, clunking katana is much more difficult than Naruto had anticipated. Careful not to let the polished wooden scabbard drag across the dirt, he crawls through the bush in front of the wall’s hole on three limbs as his hand holds his new blade well above the ground. The two bento boxes—leftovers from last night’s festival—and a water flask dig into his back, but sit firmly in his pack. It’s a bit heavier than usual. He stuffed in something else for Sasuke. A surprise.

Having grown quite a bit since he was six years old, he has a harder time getting through the small hole. He’s already chipped some of the edges away with larger rocks, but he is growing faster than he is chipping. With a huff, he lightly tosses his pack and katana through the hole before climbing through on his elbows.

By the river, Naruto strips off his shoes and sets aside his pack. He is earlier than usual, so he decides to take his blade for a spin. His morning training had not gone as well as he had anticipated.

“It takes practice, Naruto,” his father had told him, patient as ever. “It’s not just a blade—it’s an extension of you. Feel it. Learn to dance with it.”

He had huffed in frustration as Minato ruffled his hair.

Now he raises the katana with his right hand and steadies his position. The blade glistens in the sunlight. _Inhale. Exhale_. He raises it. Steps forward. Swings. The katana sits contently in his hands, heavy, powerful. He raises it again, spins, and slashes. A faint ring licks at his ears as his katana cuts through the air around him. The new weight throws him off-balance a few times and he sways. Remembering his father’s words, he tries his best to work through his routine with this new part of him. Sweat gathers at his brow. He turns his face into the sun, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth on his eyelids. His chest heaves as he gulps in breath after breath of the crisp autumn air.

A rock hits him behind his ear.

“Ow,” he frowns, turning to see his smirking friend standing a good twelve feet away. “ _Oi_ , Sasuke-teme, if I lose an eye, I swear I’ll—”

“Now we’re even, for letting your family think I was a girl.”

Naruto rolls his eyes. “It was part of the disguise!”

“But I’m not a girl,” says Sasuke. “I wasn’t even dressed as one!”

“Well,” Naruto giggles. “You _are_ kind of pretty,”—he thought of the prettiest girl he knew—“even prettier than Sakura—ow!” He holds his hand to his middle, where Sasuke had just landed a pebble.

“Is that the new katana?” Sasuke nods at the sword in Naruto’s hand. The bokken is nowhere to be seen.

“Yep!” Naruto forgets the tiny sting in favor of waving his new katana at Sasuke, who runs over in curiosity. He presses the hilt into the other boy’s hands and watches him take in the weapon.

“It’s beautiful,” Sasuke says, eyes wide in awe. He notices Naruto’s wavering hands and watchful gaze, and quickly hands back the blade.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Soon I’ll be able to fight to protect my clan.”

Sasuke hums, but seems to be deep in thought. Naruto takes this chance to grab his pack. “Let’s do target practice today! I want to try out my katana on a real tree. I bet I can take out tree-you faster than you can take out tree-me.”

“Obviously, if I’m throwing rocks when you’ve got that.”

Naruto is already heading off in the direction of the makeshift arena, his pack swung over his shoulder and his sheathed sword dangling at his side. “Actually, I brought you something.”

Sasuke runs after him.

In the clearing, the two boys sit across one another as Naruto removes the items from his pack. He sets down the bento boxes and his water flask, from which Sasuke takes a generous gulp. He’s done it so many times that Naruto had stopped complaining. Then Naruto sets down a small package wrapped in a tattered cloth. The messy bundle clinks softly as he pushes it towards Sasuke. “I finally got access to the Weapon House and swiped a few of ‘em. I figured they’d work better than the rocks we’ve been using.”

Naruto watches as Sasuke carefully unwraps the cloth to reveal a dozen throwing stars. He reaches over to pick one up. “They’re called shuriken. You hold it like this.”

He carefully fits the star between two fingers, and nods when Sasuke imitates him. Sasuke throws one at the target to his side, and watches in amazement when the sharp point digs itself into the tree trunk. A little off-center, but still within the circle. Sasuke lets out a small laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t throw stuff at your head anymore.”

“You better not!” Naruto chucks a twig at Sasuke, only to pout when it falls short and lands on the pile of shuriken instead. “Who’ll bring you onigiri then?”

Sasuke blows a raspberry at the blonde, who grabs two shuriken and jumps over to tree-Sasuke. “Bet I can hit tree-you in the face more!”

“Bet you can’t!” And the two, with only a handful of throwing stars to share, begin their match of the day. Throw. Throw. Throw. Throw. Then they stop, taking in one another’s handiwork, before racing to the tree to retrieve their shuriken for another round.

After their thirteenth round, Naruto flops onto the ground with a thud, chest heaving. He hates losing to Sasuke. There is something in the way he is able to take one glance at a target and lodge a star into its center. Sasuke settles down next to him. For a moment, they say nothing, do nothing but breathe. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. The sun begins to make its descent from the sky.

“Why do you have to fight?”

Naruto turns his head. “What?”

“You talk about fighting and going to the front lines and all, but why?” Sasuke has his arms out to his side, fingers splayed against the ground.

“For my clan. For Senju.” Of course. His mantra. He’s wanted to be a noble Senju warrior for as long as he can remember.

“Against what?”

“The Uchiha.”

This time, Sasuke turns to watch him. Naruto catches his look of determination, the way his eyebrows come together and his mouth tightens. Then he says, “You fight the Uchiha, and the Uchiha fight you. But what do you fight _for_?”

Naruto grits his teeth, “For Senju, like I _just said_.”

“Why don’t you both just stop fighting? End it all?”

Naruto turns to watch the clouds drift lazily above him. For a moment, he feels incredibly small and insignificant. He doesn’t have an answer. “Because. Just because.”

Sasuke huffs.

“You met them,” says Naruto. “My grandfather, my great-uncle, my parents, my friends. I fight so I can protect them.”

In the back of his mind, Naruto wonders if Sasuke would understand. He doesn’t say this out loud.

A pause. Then, “Can’t you stay?”

“What?” Naruto watches him swallow and avoid his gaze.

“After the sun sets. Can’t you stay today?”

Naruto sits up, twisting the sleeve of his yukata in his fingers. “I have to go home.”

It always hurts to see Sasuke’s face fall.

* * *

Two days go by quickly. Training, reading, more training, and more training. No time to leave the compound. He awakens one morning to his mother loudly stomping around his bedroom. He scrunches up his face, and tries to burrow deeper into his blankets. Tries, and fails as Kushina rips away his comfort in one expert swipe.

“Rise and shine!”

He groans, “But _kaachan_ , I don’t have morning training today.”

Kushina laughs. “Oh no, no. I’m training you today! Today you will be helping me with housework! It’s what every good warrior must learn. So up, up, up!”

Naruto is only half awake when he finishes his breakfast and his mother stuffs a bucket and rags into his arms with instructions to clean the floors. He sets to filling the bucket with water and wiping the tatami with damp cloths. When that is finished, his mother pushes him to laundry, so he sits scrubbing his clothes in the bathtub. He falls off the stool twice when he hangs everything up on the clothesline in the courtyard. Then Kushina tries, for the fifth time, to teach him to make his own onigiri. But he burns the rice again and overstuffs the centers with cod. His warrior hands try feebly to mold the delicate onigiri into a triangular shape, but he only succeeds in making an odd ball of mush. Grumbling the entire time, he hastily wraps the two in individual cloths. Kushina, taking pity on him, giggles as she hands her son some dango, wrapped in leaves. He stuffs everything into his pack and races out the door with his katana.

When his father and great-uncle are busy, Naruto trains under Jiraiya. The older warrior currently has him sparring with Shikamaru, an excellent, witty opponent. Naruto tries to come at him from the side, katana raised, but Shikamaru counters with a spin and kick to the gut. His boot meets Naruto’s armor with a dull sound. Naruto steps back, but propels himself forward and throws a punch straight at Shikamaru’s face. His partner dodges the hit easily, stepping to the side and taking the momentum to swing himself at Naruto. Naruto kicks his foot out just as Shikamaru is trying move, smiling at the sound Shikamaru makes when he lands on his back, and holds his blade’s tip to the other’s chest. Two seconds.

He extends a hand to Shikamaru, who takes it and heaves himself up. “Man, that was great. How are you not on the front lines yet? We could use some of you up there.”

“I’ve been begging for months, Nara, _months_.” Naruto looks up in anticipation of Jiraiya’s feedback and sees him standing with Tobirama, who had just arrived. He runs over. “Did you see that? Tobirama-ojisama, am I ready _now_?”

Tobirama appraises him. He finally nods. “Yes, you may leave with the next round in two weeks. Under Jiraiya’s command.”

Overcome with joy, Naruto hollers, raising his arms in victory. “ _Yes_! Yes! I have to go tell touchan. I’ve waited forever and I hope you didn’t tell him before telling me since it’s supposed to be a surprise—”

“Naruto,” Tobirama says. “This isn’t—”

“It’s okay if you already told him! I’ll tell him anyway, and we all know kaachan won’t be too happy—”

“Naruto,” Jiraiya says. This time, Naruto sees, really sees, the way his shoulders sag. “Glory can be a great thing, but you must understand that once you kill a man, there is no going back. Once you leave for the front lines, the chance that you will not return is greater than the chance that you will.”

Naruto bites his tongue to keep his excitement at bay. He knows that not every person who leaves makes it back—he’s seen it, warriors returning with the bodies of their comrades, but it has always been distant. The crying of mothers and brothers over the bodies of people he never really knew. Mass funerals for rows of bodies wrapped in cloth, faces hidden, burned to ashes and spread to the wind. It had been like this for as long as Naruto could remember. He’s never placed himself in the flames that danced in red and spit in black. Dying is what happened to other people.

The next day, Naruto returns to the river to share the news with Sasuke. He tells him how frustrating it was that none of the adults had seemed happy for him. He tells him how his mother had been quiet all throughout dinner, how she stopped laughing at his jokes and instead, just looked at him. Sasuke nods slowly. They sit for a few minutes in silence, listening to the music of the leaves in the breeze. Sasuke picks up a stone and chucks it against the surface of the water, watching it skip twice before sinking. “Bet I can skip further than you.”

Naruto stares at him for a moment before breaking into a smile, eyebrows raised. “Bet you can’t.”

Naruto loses the skipping bet this time around, and shoves Sasuke into the river in frustration. When the boy resurfaces, looking unimpressed with his hair pressed flat against his head, Naruto laughs so hard he almost hyperventilates. Sasuke pulls himself out, but Naruto leaps forward and throws him back in, laughing even harder at the way his arms flail before he falls in with a yelp. He’s lying on his back, wheezing as he tries to catch his breath when Sasuke comes back out, magically grasping a fat, thrashing fish.

“Food.” He waves the fish as he climbs back on land. The fish is dropped to the ground and killed swiftly with a sharp rock. Naruto watches in quiet awe as Sasuke guts it and impales it on a stick. He gathers a few sticks and a handful of dry grass and sets it into a pile, holding onto the impaled fish as Sasuke uses a stick and stone to create a small fire. 

“Sun’s going down,” Sasuke comments as he holds the fish just over the greedy tendrils of fire. He hesitates, then whispers, “Can you stay?”

Naruto watches the way the light and shadows flutter across Sasuke’s face as he leans over the fire. He stares at the fish, its skin shriveling and crackling, shiny with oil. He wonders if this is what happens to the bodies of fallen Senju during funerals. “Yeah.”

“Not going?” Sasuke needs to make sure.

“No.”

The two settle down later next to a dying fire, passing the crispy fish between one another as they take careful bites. It doesn’t completely fill the stomachs of two adolescent boys, but it’s enough to keep them satisfied. Enough to have them lie back and slowly drift off into sleep.

* * *

Kushina eyes him thoughtfully when he lets himself into the Uzumaki House the next morning. She is sitting with his father across from both Hashirama and Tobirama, paperwork splayed out across the table between them. Naruto recognizes his father’s handwriting scribbled across the scrolls—battle tactics, unit assignments, training schedules, complete and incomplete missions. He takes in his mother’s grey complexion. 

“Where have you been?”

“With a friend,” Naruto says. He offers a sheepish smile. Kushina looks at him, lips pursed. She must have been up all night, working on battle strategy. She opens her mouth to say more, but Minato interrupts her.

“Naruto, come sit.” Minato pats the empty cushion on the tatami next to him. Naruto does, folding his legs neatly beneath him. “We’ve been discussing changes we want to bring to the tide of the war. There will be a meeting amongst the generals and clan heads soon. You should join us.”

He nods.

In the Commandant Room that afternoon, Naruto finds himself sitting amongst Senju generals and clan heads. The meeting begins with a momentary tribute to honor the men that were lost in the past week. He learns that a reinforcement unit had been taken out en route. They’d have to reroute to avoid further ambushes. His jaw tightens. _The Uchiha will pay_.

“—Minato’s suggestion, the new units will be smaller, more focused,” his father’s name cuts him out of his daze and he turns to listen to Hashirama address the meeting. “Three teams, each consisting of three warriors and a captain, will make up a unit operating under its respective head general. Each departing warrior will receive a scroll containing your unit members and missions after the meeting.”

Everyone nods in understanding. A few of them tighten their mouths into thin lines. Tobirama speaks up, “Additional training has been implemented based on assigned units and teams. The times will be included in your scrolls. Please report to your sessions as usual. You have two weeks to get acquainted with your team members.”

“Are there any concerns?” Hashirama’s eyes roam the room, and upon hearing its silence, he rises from his chair. “You are all dismissed.”

_Head General: Gama Sennin no Jiraiya of Senju_

_Captain: Hyuuga Neji of Senju_

_Team Members: Uzumaki Naruto of Senju, Inuzuka Kiba of Senju, Tenten of Senju_

_Unit Members: Rock Lee of Senju, Nara Shikamaru of Senju, Akimichi Chouji of Senju, Yamanaka Ino of Senju, Hyuuga Hinata of Senju, Aburame Shino of Senju_

_Training: Daily sessions, midday_

Naruto reads his scroll once, then twice. Hyuuga. Huh. Must be that new clan his grandfather recently negotiated with. He remembers his father saying something about their bloodline’s visual prowess. _Byakugan—white eye. It could really help us against the Uchiha._ It was pretty amazing to see how far his clan had grown, all thanks to Senju Hashirama.

“Naruto-sama,” a deep voice addresses him. He looks up to find himself staring at a bowed head, a dark ponytail falling over one shoulder. When the man straightens, Naruto realizes from his pale lilac eyes that he must be Hyuuga Neji. They are rather close in age. “I am your team captain. Pleasure to meet you.”

Flustered, Naruto quickly gives a small bow as well. Then he laughs nervously, bringing his hand to his neck to scratch an itch that was never there. “Please, just Naruto is fine—”

“Yo!” Someone jumps on his back and wraps all limbs around him. “Can’t believe we’re in the same team, ne, Uzumaki?”

Naruto flails his arms, recognizing the voice. “Get off of me, you dog! Ow—Inuzuka—don’t kick me, you piece of shit!”

Rambunctious wrestling ensues. Lee jumps in after a few minutes so as not to miss out on this loud display of youth. Tenten finally pulls the three apart after noticing the dangerously swollen vein on Neji’s forehead. The rest of their afternoon is taken up by light sparring.

Light for Neji, he quickly notices a few seconds into the dispute, is not light at all. Despite not being as fond of his katana as Naruto is, the Hyuuga could pack quite a blow with just the base of his hand. Against armor, too. He wonders what a spar against him would be like without any defense. It’s odd, he finds, that even in a match where he is swinging his katana at the other’s armor, calculated blows at his nerves have him bringing down his sword seconds later than he had intended. And in war, a second could make the difference between life and death.

A hit in the elbow briefly paralyzes him— _why won’t my body move_ —before he brings his sword down, but by then Neji, lilac eyes almost bulging with strain, already has his own blade pressed against his neck.

* * *

“Sorry, I’ve been training my ass off. Leaving soon—barely escaped Neji-taichou just now. Man, was he pissed. I don’t think he likes me very—”

“You’re leaving?”

“Tomorrow—at dawn.” 

“For how long?”

A pause. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” 

“Three weeks, maybe four. Likely more.”

“Can’t—can’t you stay?”

“Sasuke, you know I can’t—”

“Hn.”

The grass is soft under his feet. Leaves quiver in the trees to his right, a few falling in waves when two squirrels scamper by. On his left, the river rolls by in lazy lulls, coming up every so often to lap at the hanging plants nearby. The sun blankets him in warmth and his heart tingles with excitement, but he shivers, goosebumps rising on his arms. He hates when Sasuke is like this. “Oh, come on, don’t do that.”

“Hn.”

He stares futilely at Sasuke, who is standing across him with his arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes taking a sudden interest in the ground. Kicking at a pebble by his foot, he huffs. Never in the years that Naruto had known him has he ever seen him like this. Annoyed Sasuke, quiet Sasuke, livid Sasuke, happy Sasuke, sleepy Sasuke, stubborn Sasuke, but never this. He doesn’t even know how to begin to describe it.

It’s odd—not being able to read him the way he always has.

“What?” Naruto throws his hands into his golden hair, tugging in frustration. “Hey, hey, I tried to come but we never finish until well past sundown. I tried.”

At this Sasuke flicks his dark eyes to ones as blue as the river. Naruto knows this one—livid Sasuke. “You have no idea. Do you know how long I always wait for you? Do you know how it feels to be the one always left behind? Always? Look, you’re busy, I get it. I’m not an idiot, but I’m also not someone to entertain you when you’re bored. You get to go somewhere—but I don’t. I stay here. I wait. I’m always _waiting_. I’m not like you—I don’t have people to go back to.”

Naruto gawks at him, still watching even as his forest friend turns around and runs back into the trees. No, not livid Sasuke—livid Sasuke kicks and punches and screams, but never runs. He stares at the retreating back as his mind tries to connect the dots. An embarrassingly long moment passes before he finally realizes. He’s been seeing Sasuke once every few days since he was six years old. Sasuke, who waits and waits and waits. Sasuke, who is always there, who probably comes to the river _every day_ just in case Naruto happens to drop by. The last two weeks have been the longest he’s gone without crawling through that hole in the Senju wall. After today, who knows how long Sasuke will have to wait? Assuming he even makes it back alive.

“Wait, wait!” He runs into the forest, but even after all these years, the only place he has ever gone in the trees is the makeshift arena. He finds Sasuke furiously flinging shuriken at tree-Naruto. “Sasuke, please.”

Sasuke ignores him, just throws star after star at the tree trunk until Naruto reaches over and grabs him by the arm and flips him around so suddenly that he drops the last one in surprise. He takes in the crease of his delicate brows, the downward set of his mouth. He finds himself gazing into crimson eyes, flickered with specks of black. He blinks once, then twice, and shakes his head. Looks into those wide, wide eyes again and sees the familiar blackness. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Let me go.”

“Sasuke—”

“ _Let me go_.”

He does. He watches his friend walk away from him, feels the cold in his chest turn to solid ice. “I’ll miss you.”

Sasuke’s steps falter until he stands there, shoulders rising and falling with each breath. The bustling life in the forest hushes, almost as if they are holding their breaths with Naruto.

“Bet you I’ll come back,” Naruto nods, even though Sasuke cannot see. “I promise—as a friend.”

“See, that’s the thing, Naruto. I’m your friend, but you,” he swallows—hesitates—then turns and leaps into him. Naruto realizes which Sasuke this is as he folds him into his arms. Sad Sasuke. “You are my only friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for taking the time to read! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. It's a bit of a slow one, but we've got a lot set up for the next one!


	4. Part 3: The Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry, it's been a while since the last update. I originally went into this project thinking I was just going to edit a few chapters here and there from my original fanfiction.net posting. Lo and behold, I basically revamped this entire storyline. There are a lot of changes, and this chapter is going to be drastically different in direction. It took so long to write because I wanted to make sure that I got it right. Thanks for waiting!

The dawn is grey with mist, alive with the shuffles of Senju warriors meeting their teams and the light clinks of katana in wooden saya. Naruto turns from where he is standing with Kiba, taking in the worried faces of his parents, and waves. His armor sits heavy on his shoulders in shining crimson. His mother wrings her hands. His father nods to him.

The sun has not yet begun to peek over the clouds. Naruto tilts his face to the sky, watching his breath spin into white then grey then nothing, his cheeks tingling with cold. He wonders if Sasuke is still asleep.

Jiraiya makes his rounds through his unit, checking in with warriors and clapping backs. When all is satisfactory, he makes his way to the front of the unit and lifts his hand. Kiba gives him a sideways glance and smiles.

“Happy birthday, Naruto.”

The sun glimpses at them from the tops of mountains. Naruto tightens the white Senju headband over his forehead, breathes once, twice.

* * *

Battle armor is heavier than training armor. It clunks with every step and clings to his body like a stubborn child. He wonders if this is what turtles feel like and imagines the Senju and Uchiha as crimson and navy turtles running at each other. He chuckles under his breath.

“Oi, Naruto.” Tenten’s careful whisper snaps him back to attention.

“Sorry.”

Neji peeks through the leaves of their hiding spot, colorless eyes straining so hard a few blood vessels protrude from his face. He dabs at the sweat on his brow. The order for Team Hyuuga had been simple: Intercept the reinforcement unit. Naruto bitterly thinks it should have been _hide for four hours in bush, stare until eyes fall off._ Neji is to warn them when he sees sign of movement—the Hyuuga can see further than the typical human if they strain their eyes hard enough, but the small difference is a huge advantage in war, where mere seconds can determine who wins and who dies.

Well into the fourth hour of kneeling in the undergrowth, Naruto’s legs are falling asleep. Pinpricks run their way up from ankle to thigh and he curses. Next to him, Kiba grunts as he shifts to massage his calf. He wonders how Neji has held the same position for—

Two pale fingers lift. Naruto’s hand goes to the pack sown into his armor’s sash and he weaves his fingers around four shuriken.

“Six,” Neji whispers. They’re outnumbered, but just by two. Not too bad, but a small reinforcement unit could mean a strong one. Neji’s sight has given them the advantage.

He can hear them now, footsteps falling closer and closer to where he is crouched in the undergrowth. They’re fast, but he’s faster.

His arm swings, fingers releasing the shuriken, as his legs propel him forward and he leaps out just as the unit is racing by, taking them by surprise. The stars find their way into arms and calves uncovered by thick, navy armor.

“Fucking Senju,” a dark-haired man hisses as he dodges a shuriken by a hair’s width and pulls his katana out. A movement, Naruto notices, that mirrors his own practiced swing. Their blades meet in a note that rings with the clarity of a crisp winter morning.

Never in his life has he fought with the intent to kill, but with his katana still pressed against the Uchiha’s, he feels fear and adrenaline boil so thickly in his blood that he thinks he might break. He raises his katana, then spins and delivers a back-kick before slashing his blade down as his opponent lands. One of his fastest routines, but the Uchiha dodges with ease and once again mirrors him. He screeches in anger when his shoulder is cut—he’d never had to learn to counter his own attack. Suddenly he understands why, even after all these years, the Senju have had such a difficult time defeating their warring clan.

 _The Uchiha have the Sharingan—copy wheel eye. They have the visual prowess to read into the smallest muscle shifts and predict your next move. Be spontaneous when you fight_ , Tobirama had told him when they departed the compound. _And when focused on a target, they can mirror you with frightening accuracy. Never let down your guard._

Adrenaline races through him. He can feel it sear his veins. _In battle, there are only two outcomes—your death, or the death of the enemy_ , his father had said. _You must choose, or he will choose for you_. He feigns a punch to the man’s face, angled to the right so that he would step to his left to dodge. The man does, but trips over a waiting foot. Naruto cuts his katana across his throat, his blade hitting resistance as it breaks through cartilage and flesh. The Uchiha lands hard on the forest floor, coughing and gurgling with his hands against his neck, blood seeping from between his fingers the same way the river does whenever Naruto tries to grasp it—flowing, flowing.

When the glorious high of battle fades, Naruto sees. Deep scarlet. Flecks of black. The quieting gaze fades into grey darkness as the man’s chest stops rising. He cannot recall why this all looks so familiar, but his stomach churns and churns until he doubles over and vomits onto the man’s blue armor. 

The sounds of battle have died down behind him, and soon he feels a hand on his arm. He straightens, grimacing at the sour taste on his tongue as he hastily wipes a hand over his mouth.

“First kill, huh,” Kiba says as he looks at the Uchiha who stares into the same nothingness as his five other comrades. Bodies still warm. They had just successfully completed their mission, but Inuzuka’s face is as empty as Naruto feels inside. “No feeling in the world can compare.”

They know Naruto isn’t vomiting over the blood he spilled, but over the brief feeling of glory he had felt when his enemy had fallen. It is as if he has been thrown back to the first time he laid hands on Tobirama’s bokken, when he spun and slashed and Tobirama had beamed. This was his dream, wasn’t it?

* * *

Curled into his sleeping bag that night, Naruto dreams of red.

He is panting, a sea of crimson pulling at his feet. He looks up, for the sky, but sees more crimson. Where the sun should be is a pinwheel of black flecks. Three dashes sit around a black sphere in the center, spinning spinning spinning. He blinks.

The red is gone. Instead, there is a body, clad in blue armor on the ground beneath him. Black hair is splayed across the lifeless face. The wound across his neck has dried, but Naruto can see white cartilage peeking out. He blinks again. The Uchiha is watching him. His eyes are red as the blood on his neck, pinwheel spinning.

Naruto screams, scrambling back. He trips on a branch and falls.

“Naruto!” There are hands on his shoulders, shaking him. “Naruto, wake up!”

He opens his eyes to Neji’s face. His teammates are watching him. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh, yeah,” Naruto grunts. He rubs his face with his hand, relishing in the solid ground beneath him.

There is a brief pause as Neji sighs and settles back into his sleeping bag. “It happens.”

Then, with images of the dream flashing back into his mind, he sits up abruptly, his head spinning. “Your eyes, taichou,” he says. “Does anyone else have them?”

“What?”

“Are your, uh, type of eyes only specific to the Hyuuga?” Naruto asks.

“Yes,” Neji says. “Only we carry the Byakugan.”

“Could anyone outside the Hyuuga clan have it?”

Neji pauses. “It’s quite unlikely, they’d have to have Hyuuga blood. The less pure their blood, the less effective the visual prowess.”

“So for the Uchiha,” Naruto hesitates. “It would be the same situation, then? For the red eyes and all?”

“I believe so,” says Neji. “It’s why our clans so obsessed with bloodline purity—didn’t you ever learn about this?”

“Yeah,” Naruto laughs dully. “I just didn’t pay attention then.”

* * *

“Naruto!”

He is jerked out of his trance by Kiba’s voice in time to see the shine of a katana swinging towards him. He steps back, tripping and landing on his bottom, desperately scrambling backwards—armor dragging in the dirt—red eyes flashing underneath a dark fringe.

_Shitshitshit—_

A dagger knocks the Uchiha’s katana back, and another lands in his throat. The boy falls to the ground in spasms before going still, his face hidden in the dirt. Naruto stares at the way bright blood drips against pale skin and soaks into dark hair.

_Sasuke?_

He reaches for him—

“Naruto, snap out of it!” Kiba yells as he retrieves his daggers, turning the boy’s body around and revealing a face Naruto does not recognize.

 _It’s not Sasuke, of course it isn’t_.

“That was the last of them,” Neji says. His hair is plastered to his face, glistening with sweat. “Jiraiya’s given orders to head back as soon as possible. Naruto—whatever you were doing back there, stop. That was close.”

Tenten watches him, lips pursed, wiping her katana on the sleeve of her slain Uchiha. Naruto turns from her and empties his stomach on the forest ground.

* * *

He is tucked into a bush, noisily relieving himself, when the great fox spirit materializes before him. An indignant squawk comes out his mouth as he stumbles back, barely tucking himself into his uniform before he slips and lands squarely on the ground.

“ _Oi_ ,” he huffs, glaring at the scarlet spirit. “A warning would be nice, y’know. How’d you even get here anyway?”

 ** _The forest is mine, gaki. I go where I please._** The spirit strides to where Naruto is sprawled out and takes a seat before him. **_But more importantly, this is for Sasuke._**

“Sasuke?” he gulps. He can feel his hands tremble.

A chuckle, one so low that anyone else would have mistaken it to be a growl, vibrates through the trees. **_He asked me to protect you. I am here—alone—to accompany you and keep you safe._**

Naruto scratches his head, laughing nervously, “Look, Kurama. I, uh, appreciate the gesture and all but there’s no way I can walk around camp with a huge nine-tailed fox.”

 ** _Do you take me to be a fool?_** Kurama stands up, his great tails billowing out behind him like a blazing fire. Naruto, despite himself, cowers back at the display. **_I have figured out those markings on your face, how you know me and how you can see me even when I do not wish to be seen. You’re Uzumaki, are you not? That means I can do this._**

Kurama leans down until he has his nose pressed against Naruto’s abdomen. In one quick motion, he dives into him and disappears. Naruto screams.

**_Shut up._ **

“What?” He slaps at his stomach. “Oi, this isn’t funny—”

**_I’m in your subconscious, you idiot._ **

“Wait, what? In my head? Are you going to, what, just listen and watch everything I do because that’s kind of weird, like really, really—”

 ** _Don’t make me regret this, Senju no gaki._** A sigh of exasperation. **_I’m here to help. Trust me. Trust Sasuke._**

Naruto cannot breathe.

* * *

Naruto watches pink eyebrows curve in concentration as Sakura runs her fingers over his wounded forearm. She presses the skin around the wound and frowns. “How old is this?”

“A couple hours,” he says. “Why?”

“It’s—,” she shakes her head. Peers closer. “It’s already scabbed over. Closed. You sure this is the right one?”

“I know where I’ve been cut, Sakura-chan,” Naruto says. He leans over now to look at his own arm. Blue eyes widen. It looks old already. “What the—”

_How?_

“Poison?” Naruto says. He ignores the way his chest prickles with fear.

Sakura shakes her head, cropped pink hair flying around her face. “Doubt it. Pupils are normal, heartbeat is normal. It just… looks healed.”

“So I’ll be fine?”

“Seems so,” she says. “But I’ll apply some ointment and bandage it. Let me know the moment something feels off.”

“Thanks.” Naruto nods at her, relief settling into his shoulders. Sakura hands him a few rolls of cloth bandages to hold as she spreads ointment over his wound.

“Of course.”

Naruto pauses. He remembers how he has always seen Sakura with her nose in a scroll, studying. “Ne—Sakura?”

“Yes?”

“Do all Uchiha have the Sharingan?”

Sakura thinks for a moment. “Well, our information is limited to battlefield accounts, but yes, they all do. Not all the time though. We believe they have the ability to activate their visual prowess. At rest, their eyes are dark.”

“Could someone outside the clan have those eyes?” Naruto asks.

Sakura frowns. “I doubt it. Red tones, perhaps—Tobirama-sama has similar shades—but the Sharingan’s pinwheel and abilities are specific to Uchiha. They’re quite strict when it comes to bloodline purity, so it’s possible that only a full-blood Uchiha can activate—Naruto! I still need that!”

Naruto looks to his hands, the bundle of new bandages torn to shreds.

* * *

“Is everything all right?”

Naruto glances up from his position on the floor of his room, a splash of scrolls sprawled around him. His father is standing over him, dressed in a deep blue yukata, feet bare against the tatami. Naruto yawns, stretching out as his father watches. His parents have been more attentive than usual since he returned after a moon of battling on the front lines.

“I swear, I didn’t hit my head like kaachan says,” Naruto drawls. “I’m just reading.”

“Well,” Minato starts, taking a seat next to him. Naruto knows his father is likely attributing his newfound obsession with reading to his first front line experience. “Let’s take a look—ah, the Sharingan.”

Naruto nods. “I’m trying to figure out if it’s possible for someone not of Uchiha descent to have the Sharingan.”

“It’s not,” Minato clicks his tongue. “Only pure-blooded Uchiha have it. It’s the main reason they don’t invite smaller clans to join them—dilutes the bloodline.”

“So they’re even more uptight than the Hyuuga.”

Minato chuckles, “I did fight a man named Kakashi once. The Copy-Cat Warrior. He had a single Sharingan eye, and looked nothing at all like an Uchiha. There have been rumors that it is possible to surgically transplant one Uchiha eye into another person. It’s incredibly taxing on the body. I haven’t heard of any successful procedures with both eyes.”

“Eyeball transplants?” Naruto gawks. “That’s disgusting.”

“People do a lot for power,” Minato says. “It takes more to refuse power than to take it. Why are you so interested in this now?”

“No reason,” Naruto hums. He bites his lip. “Are all Uchiha bad? I mean—I used to think we fought them because they were bad. They were the enemy, but now I’m not so sure.”

“I don’t think it is fair to say they are all bad,” Minato says. “We fight them not because they are bad people, but because we have differing beliefs. We fight for what we believe in, and to protect those we love.”

_But what do we believe in—and why is it worth the deaths of so many people?_

Naruto doesn’t respond. Minato places a hand on his shoulder. “In that moment of battle, you must hate them. You must believe that your enemy is truly a bad person, because that is the only way you will be able to kill him.”

* * *

Long after his father has gone and the sun has fallen, Naruto lays on his stomach in candlelight. The scroll he holds shakes in his grip.

 _Uchiha Clan_ , it reads. _Black of hair, black of eyes, light of skin. The activated Sharingan is red, with a single pupil in the center and three black dashes surrounding the pupil._

_Notable Members:_

_Uchiha Madara_

_Uchiha Fugaku—deceased —Uchiha Mikoto—deceased_

_Uchiha Itachi— ~~deceased~~_

_Uchiha Sasuke—deceased_

_Uchiha Izuna—deceased_

_Uchiha Danzo_

_Uchiha Obito_

_Hatake Kakashi of Uchiha_

_Uchiha Izumi_

_Uchiha Shisui—location unknown_

* * *

Life is a funny thing, Naruto realizes. It is stubborn as a roach, little legs scuffling and body pressed flat against the earth—but one quick knick is all it takes to snuff it out. He watches the branches of trees sway and wonders how quickly life could be snuffed from them. He sees a bird and imagines the fluttering of its wings pause. He closes his fingers around his neck. One cut is all it would take. He wonders briefly if he can break his own neck with his own hands. _Is it possible?_

He wriggles his toes as he dips his feet into the river. He wonders if life could be snuffed out of a river. He imagines the lights of the Senju compound going out one by one in the night. He wonders if life could be snuffed out of the stars.

_And me—would I go out with a scream, or a murmur?_

A pebble hits him in the back of the head. Naruto turns. For a moment, he finds himself staring at a stranger—at the strong curves of his fingers and the defiant line of his lips. Uchiha in the black of his hair, the black of his eyes, the light of his skin. Aristocratic in the delicate build of his chin, the straight of his nose. Uchiha Sasuke, second heir to the clan. _How have I never noticed before?_

“You’re late, usuratonkachi.” The voice, strained with sadness, hits him with the force of ten winter storms. He feels the air in his lungs stiffen with cold. “I was afraid you weren’t going to come back—”

“Sasuke—” It comes out strained, hoarse. He catches a glimpse of his old onigiri cloth, orange and frayed with wear, tied around Sasuke’s wrist. His face crumples. “No, no, no, _Sasuke_.” His knees give out.

Sasuke looks alarmed. He rushes forward, catching Naruto in his arms. For a moment, Naruto tries to shrug him off, but Sasuke’s grip is familiar, his scent comforting. He holds Sasuke’s face in his hands, tries to force himself to see, again, the Uchiha in him.

Sasuke’s eyes are dark and wide, lashes rimmed with wetness. When he blinks, they become red with Sharingan. He has his arms awkwardly wrapped under Naruto’s armpits, supporting his weight. “Naruto, what’s wrong? Naruto?”

_Stop saying my name._

All he can see is red. All he can hear is Sasuke.

 _I should hate you_.

The cry wrenching from his throat is guttural and thick. Sasuke runs a hand over his back. When he realizes Naruto isn’t going to answer him, he starts to talk about his days waiting by the river, learning to spin silk with Chōmei and attempting to sing with Gyūki. In his free time, he had repainted tree-Sasuke and tree-Naruto in the clearing with a new mixture he had concocted. He’s sure this one will last much longer than berry juice. Naruto closes his eyes and tries to pace his breath to the lull of Sasuke’s voice.

“I won,” Naruto hiccups. He sits up and rests his chin on his knees, running a sleeve over his wet face.

“Won what?”

“The bet.” He turns into Sasuke’s eyes, which were dark once again. “I came back.”

“You were gone for two moons.”

“I know.”

“What took you so long?”

“Nothing—no, everything.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing, there was just a lot to do.”

“I was afraid you weren’t coming back.”

“I always do.”

Sasuke settles down by Naruto, sitting so their shoulders touch, and watches bits of the sun flicker in the river. Naruto tells him about Kurama and the way the great fox dove into his abdomen. Sasuke listens intently, leaning his head down to Naruto’s stomach to speak to Kurama. All he hears in response is Naruto’s growling stomach. They laugh. When Naruto wonders aloud if life could be snuffed out of the sun, Sasuke cuffs him in the back of the head.

“There are some things you just can’t snuff out—they’re loud and often annoying.” Sasuke pauses, then adds, “Like you, _usuratonkachi_.”

“Teme!” Naruto jams his elbow into Sasuke’s ribs. Sasuke shrieks and shoves him into the river.

* * *

In the three moons Neji’s team is given before they depart once again for the front lines, Naruto awakens before the sunrise each day. He slips on his yukata and runs at his swiftest through the compound to the hole in the wall, and from the wall to the river. Every push of his foot against the ground makes his sore muscles screech. Even with the rigor of his new training schedule, there is nothing he wouldn’t give to spend mornings by the drowsy river, plucking flat stones from the ground and skidding them against the water. Each day that he steps to the river bank, Sasuke is there, cheeks pink against morning’s haze and hair still tangled with sleep.

“Ne, Sasuke,” he says. “If you knew something about someone that could change his life, would you tell him?”

Sasuke skips two stones at the same time. They hop across the water, further and further away from one another. “That depends. Would it make him happy?”

“Maybe,” Naruto says. He throws his pebble into the water, counting three skips before it sinks with a plop. “He’d gain something he’s always wanted, but lose something he already has.”

_And I’d lose you too._

The brush rustles behind them. Naruto stiffens, stone ready in his hand.

“Relax,” Sasuke says, glancing at him. “Nothing’s there.”

Naruto sighs, letting his arm fall. He takes a seat on the bank as Sasuke flings three more stones into the water.

“I would tell him if what he gains is greater than what he loses,” Sasuke says. He tosses a pebble from palm to palm, eyeing Naruto. “What aren’t you saying?”

Naruto offers him a wan smile. “Nothing.”

He flings his stone against the water. It skips four times and lands neatly on the other side of the bank. He wonders what it must be like to push off the water’s surface and take flight, in that moment untouched by all but the sky.

* * *

 ** _Tread carefully, Naruto_. **Kurama rumbles from the pit of Naruto’s gut. Naruto is sitting against a bare tree in the Senju compound, watching the clouds drone on through the sky, heavy and slow. He pulls his cloak tighter around his chest. The sun is out, but the air is cold in the start of a new year.

“Where’ve you been?” Naruto pokes at his stomach.

**_Sleeping._ **

Naruto grumbles, “Maybe I’m wrong, it could be another boy named Sasuke.”

**_That is unlikely, however much I hope you are wrong. I cannot reach him if he associates himself with the Uchiha._ **

“You can’t?” 

**_The Uchiha have a different religion. We forest spirits are associated with the Senju, and even more so with the Uzumaki. We must honor the break between Senju and Uchiha as the war goes on. We took him in because at the time, he had no associations._ **

“Oh,” Naruto says. He frowns. “So you would lose him, too.”

**_Yes._ **

He sighs. Suddenly he feels empty, as though someone had upended him and all of his insides had fallen out. “Sasuke said he’d tell if the gains are greater than the losses, and—I can’t say what’s more important—it’s just—it’s not my choice to make.”

**_You will tell him, then?_ **

Naruto presses the palms of his hands against his eyes.

* * *

It is as if he is being thrown in fire and dunked in snow all at once. His chest burns. His ankles are numb. He tries to swallow, but his throat is thick.

Sasuke is kneeling on the ground with him, their shoulders bumping. He is running a finger over the name of his mother, the orange onigiri cloth around his wrist spilling over Uchiha names.

“How did you find out?”

“The day I left for the front lines,” Naruto says. His voice feels loud, intrusive. He lowers it. “Your eyes turned red. I only remembered when I started dreaming about the man I, um, fought. His eyes were like yours.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” A breath. “Good, because he would have killed you.”

Naruto swallows.

Sasuke plays at the handkerchief around his wrist. “How long have you known?”

“Not long,” Naruto says.

“So that’s why you asked—that other day—this is what you weren’t saying,” Sasuke says. “I’d gain a family, but I would lose you.”

“And Kurama. And all the forest spirits,” Naruto says quickly. _I’m being selfish. I want him to choose me._ “Because of differing religions. They can’t reach Uchiha.”

Sasuke doesn’t respond. Naruto looks at the ground, plucking at a patch of grass by his knee. He yanks out a root on accident, frowns, and replants it.

“Do you…” Sasuke looks at him for the first time since he opened the scroll. His voice breaks. “Do you hate me?”

“No,” Naruto says firmly. “No, I could never.”

“Okay.”

“I know I said all that stuff before about fighting the Uchiha, and I really did want to hate you—but I couldn’t, Sasuke—I can’t. I wonder sometimes if that makes me a bad warrior.”

Sasuke doesn’t respond again. Naruto returns to plucking at grass. The sun begins to rise.

“You know,” Sasuke starts. His voice is quieter this time and Naruto has to lean closer to hear him. “I thought all I wanted was a family, but now these names—seeing them and knowing them—they aren’t anything more than that.” He fixes his gaze to piercing blue. “I can’t lose you, not for anything—that is, if you still want to see me.”

“I do.”

“Okay.” Another pause, a calm before the storm. “Sorry—it’s just that—I’ve always imagined the day I might meet them—but now they’re not even alive—I know I said it’s just names—but at the same time I wanted to, you know—it’s not even a big deal—I’ve always had the spirits—”

Naruto feels like the river after a night of rain, filled to the brim with bubbling song. He wants to throw his head to the blushing sky and howl with joy because he would not be losing Sasuke. Instead, he wraps his arms around trembling shoulders and presses him close and says, “It’s okay if you want to cry.”

* * *

Rumor has it that Uzumaki Naruto of Senju turns into the sun when in battle. It is said that his glory blinds his enemies, so much so that they hold their arms above their eyes and squint before they die.

Some say that Uzumaki Naruto of Senju weeps when he kills. He whispers prayers to unknown gods as he takes his katana through the throats and chests of Uchiha.

Others say that Uzumaki Naruto of Senju has nine tails when he battles, lashing to and fro. They say his teeth grow long and the marks on his cheeks grow bold. Like a cat, they say. Or a fox.

Naruto thinks there is nothing beautiful in the way he fights, the fear of death beating through him, shrill as the cries of hawks. Blood dries and cakes behind his ears, underneath his fingernails, dark as the color of earth.

* * *

Naruto isn’t sure when it first happened.

It could have been the second time he returned from the front lines, sitting by the river with his head in his hands, apologizing to Sasuke for his need to protect his clan by slaughtering Uchiha and for the sick glory he feels when he does it.

It could have been three days before his 12th birthday, when Sasuke had jumped him from behind—just for the fun of it—and he had him thrown to the ground in panic. Sasuke had yelped and Naruto had jerkily let go of the arm he twisted against his back. He’d apologized profusely— _Oh, Sasuke, I’m sorry so sorry, please. I thought you were—and I_ —and looked at his own hands and cried. Sasuke couldn’t use that arm for two days, and Naruto refused to look him in the eyes until Sasuke had punched him hard enough across the jaw that he spit blood. _Now we’re even._

It could have been four weeks after his 13th birthday, when Chouji returned from the front lines on the back of a carriage. Naruto can still remember the blue of his lips, the still of his chest, the cool of his hands. When he had gone to the river, he broke down, screaming into Sasuke’s chest, fingers clawing at the ground, closing his eyes and only seeing the way Chouji’s body shriveled in fire, his ashes flying up, up, up.

It could have been the night of Sasuke’s 14th birthday, when he had climbed out of the hole in the wall with a wrapped gift of onigiri and dango. His feet had been bare and dusted with earth. It was the first time he had left the compound under the moonlight. By the time he had finally found Sasuke, asleep and encased in a spread of silk underneath a tree, the sun was rising. He had taken one look at the way Sasuke stirred from his slumber, cheeks ruddy and brows pulled together, and begun to hiccup.

It could have been some time after his 15th birthday, when a girl he knew to be Neji’s cousin came up to him after his training session, tapping her forefingers together and asking him to dinner in a voice so soft he almost didn’t hear her. He spent most of dinner nodding to words he couldn’t hear, watching the odd way her forefingers bent whenever she pushed their tips to each other. He snuck out that night to the river, relieved to find that Sasuke’s fingers stayed relatively straight when he pushed them together, and didn’t speak to her again.

It could have been this moment, in the middle of Naruto’s 16th year, in the midst of another goodbye. His chest is taut in the way it always is when he is with Sasuke, his lungs pushed tight against his sternum so it is hard to breathe. Sasuke has his arms folded the way he does when he is afraid, his shoulders pulled up, like he is trying to tuck himself away. “What do you mean, three years?”

“I’m sorry,” is all Naruto can say and he repeats it until Sasuke unfolds his arms and pushes him away. He’d agreed to Jiraiya’s proposal for individual training outside of the Fire Country. It is going to prepare him for his looming role as Senju Commander. Hashirama had insisted.

Sasuke’s eyes are red, black pinwheel spinning. His nose is scrunched up, brows curved together, bottom lip pushing out. His cheeks are splotchy and wet with tears. Naruto reaches for him, his hands getting pushed away until Sasuke tries to exhale but sobs instead. He pulls Sasuke to him, arms tight tight tight as if they are going to melt into one being.

Naruto feels a warmth spread in his chest the way it does whenever he is with Sasuke, like the warmth of _I love you_. Instead he says, “I’ll miss you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read! I know there was a huge time skip at the end--sorry about that! I'm trying to age them up so I'll be able to write more mature content with characters that are of age lol. Also, I just didn't want a ten year old running around in war if I could make him older. I'm very open to feedback and comments, so feel free to let me know what you think! (:


	5. Part 4: The Lands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. It's been a while. Thank you for being patient. I have spent the past few weeks traveling, and working on this chapter. If there are any inconsistencies or typos, I am only human. Please let me know so that I may correct them! Thank you for reading, and for those who leave reviews, thank you so so much. It means the world to me. 
> 
> *I have aged them up quite a bit, but I personally hate the way adult Naruto and adult Sasuke look in canon. Thus, my descriptions are still based off Shippuden, particularly with Sasuke. I like him best in the Itachi arc. Anyway, as readers, of course, you paint them differently in your minds. All is up to you. (:

The heated water of the spring blankets him in comfort and warmth as he lets out a deep breath of air, bringing his head back and resting it on the edge of—

“Heeheehee!”

Naruto snaps up at the giggle to find his general squatting by the wooden divider meant to separate the men and women. He rolls his eyes. He had rummaged through Jiraiya’s notebooks the other day and returned red-faced. Jiraiya and his so-called research.

“Oi, _Ero-sennin_! The divider’s there for a reason!”

“Hush, kiddo. This is for my research. For the greater good.”

“Perv.”

“Hush.”

Thankfully, Jiraiya saves his research for when the sun goes down. Naruto had tried to help him once. At first it had been fun, but then he caught himself staring at a woman bathing herself in the corner of the pool. He watched her run a cloth over her light skin and shift her fingers through her dark, shoulder-length hair. She tossed back a long bang, and the light of the moon caught it as it curved around her head, turning it to an almost-blue. It dawned on him who this woman resembled and he screeched, face so heated it almost singed, stumbling back until he landed in the spring. Kurama threw such a fit he nearly blacked out.

Sometimes, long after the sun goes down and the old man lays snoring in his futon, Naruto’s curiosity peaks and he shuffles through Jiraiya’s many scrolls, his face bright red as he scans the papers full of activities people do to each other in the dark. He’s read through them enough to have a favorite—one about a golden-haired warrior and a dark-haired forest nymph who meet at night to do things Naruto would never say aloud.

* * *

Naruto has never seen anything like it—both infinite and ephemeral at once. It is bluer than anything he has ever seen, blue until it meets the lighter color of the sky, as if he could run all the way to the end and jump and land in the clouds. It is hungrier than anything he has ever seen, clawing and grasping at the cliffside. He presses his stomach to the ground and hangs his head over the edge of the cliff, watching the waves spray against the stone in bursts of white before retreating once more. It smells of salt.

There is something in the way the land ends abruptly, as if torn away by the hands of a child, and falls into the ocean. Watching the ocean come and go and come again, Naruto wonders how many Senju compounds would fit in it, how many hundreds of years of war it would take for enough rain to fill something as deep and vast as it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” Jiraiya says as Naruto sits up.

He nods.

“I wanted you to see it. It’s a good reminder that there is much more beyond the feeble warring of us humans. We tend to get wrapped up in our own affairs and forget how much more there is.”

“Has my grandfather seen it?”

“Ah, definitely. But not many other people have. They think it a waste of time to come see the ocean when there is a war to win.”

He hesitates. “What even started the war to begin with?”

“A night of gambling gone wrong.”

Jiraiya reaches over and pats his back, chuckling at his expression. “I know, kiddo, I know. One accident led to another murder for the sake of revenge, and then another, and another, before our families were at an all out war. Your grandfather was five when it began. Tobirama-sama, only a few moons old. It’s not well-known. After all, who wants to know they gave their lives over nothing?”

Sasuke had been right all along.

“So,” Naruto says. He watches a hawk dive into the ocean, its wings tight against its body. “We’ve got young men dying over the drunken mistakes of old ones.”

“Yes, but now, the war is a fight for honor and revenge. We may have long forgotten the reason we started it in the first place,” Jiraiya says. “But as long as people continue to die, others will continue to fight to avenge their loved ones.”

Naruto looks at his mentor. He himself had been in a rage over Chouji’s death. He cannot even bring himself to think about what he would do if he lost his parents to the war. Or if, somehow, he lost Sasuke. “But who are we to tell them ‘no’? Revenge comes from love. Who are we to tell them to stop?”

Another hawk tries to steal the fish. The two squabble over the catch, swinging through the air in broken loops. The fish flops and twists and falls into the ocean once again.

* * *

It comes slowly, in bits of loose pebble and dust as he marches across the rocky ground, his pack heavy on his shoulders. Jiraiya trudges alongside him, telling him stories of his travels to Suna. He can feel sweat trickle down his spine, making him shiver despite the sun sitting hot on their backs. He throws his head back, groaning, “Fuck, it’s hot. Why’s it gotta be so hot?”

Jiraiya chuckles. “And three, two, one…”

“What the—!” Naruto hops on one foot, desperately shaking out his other one, trying to remove the sudden onslaught of sand. He gets a footful of sand in his other sandal, and yelps. “It’s hot! Hot, hot, hot!”

“It’s just sand,” Jiraiya says. “Welcome to Sunagakure, kiddo.”

Naruto stops hopping, setting his foot down and taking in the sight before him. He’s never seen sand before. It’s quite magnificent, sprawling over the golden mountains in front of him. When the wind blows, the mountains breathe.

He bends over and holds it, feels it run through his fingers as if it were alive. It crunches under his feet and digs itself between his toes. 

“I take it you’ve never seen sand before,” a husky voice speaks up from behind him. An accent of the south. Naruto turns from where he is mindlessly stabbing at the ground with his katana and finds a boy staring at him with eyes like emeralds and hair like fire.

He straightens as the other boy regards him with eyes rimmed in shadow, like jewels in a cave. “Yeah, first time.”

“You’ll ruin your blade.”

“Oh.” Naruto stops his jabbing.

“Hn.”

A pause.

Naruto bursts into laughter, throwing his head back so the sun catches his golden strands in its warm grasp. His chest tightens with a strange longing for home and his dark-haired friend. His arms come around his abdomen, holding him together, holding holding _holding_ because he might break apart just then. “Sorry—ha—sorry, you just reminded me of a friend back home.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah.”

Sapphire meets emerald, and the fire-haired boy does not think he has ever heard laughter as sorrowful in his life. “I’m Gaara of Suna.”

Naruto pauses. _Of Suna, huh, instead of a family name._ “I’m Naruto of, uh, forests, I guess.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of forests. They’re supposed to have lots of trees, right?” Gaara lights up. “Well, I’m just headed home. If you’d like a place to stay, our village is open to travelers. We’re just in that valley.” Gaara gestures towards the flat land sitting in the crack of mountain ahead of them. Naruto squints, making out a few structures that seem to have been made of sand. He smiles.

That is how he makes the first friend of many in his travels—tucked away, ankle-deep in sand, behind a broken mountain.

* * *

Sunagakure is red clay against gold sand against blue sky. Gaara walks him through the village built out of the ground and invites him inside his family’s home. Naruto is stunned to find he is son of the Kazekage. In a village of peace, they have no Commander. Simply a Kazekage—shadow of the wind, a protector.

“My father is out,” Gaara says as they step inside his home. “But you should be able to meet everyone else.”

Naruto shivers at the sudden change in temperature. “It’s almost cold in here.”

“Clay insulates,” Gaara says. He knocks on the wall. “All our buildings are made from it.”

“Thought I heard talking,” a girl says as she makes her way into the room. She wears a simple black yukata, with her golden hair tied into four ponytails. “Oi, Kankuro! We have guests! I’m Temari, by the way.”

“My sister,” Gaara says. A taller, brown-haired boy hobbles in, a dangling puppet in his hand. “And this is Kankuro, my brother.”

Naruto smiles at them. He and Jiraiya spend the afternoon drinking tea with the siblings and sharing stories of the Land of Fire and Sunagakure. In Sunagakure, the floors are made of clay and carpet, and they dine at tables, seated in chairs. Temari and Kankuro, like Gaara, are curious about forests. He learns that the siblings spend the majority of their free time dabbling in art instead of training in combat. Instead of a katana, their most prized possessions are pottery, puppets, and fans. When the sun begins to set, he and Jiraiya bid them goodbye and settle down at the only ryokan in all of Sunagakure.

Sunagakure, in all its monochromes, is bright with personality. There are buildings for guests to sleep in, for people to eat at, for soldiers to train in, for students to learn in. Art is encouraged. Naruto tries his hand at pottery and creates a piece that Gaara says thoroughly resembles a rock. Temari falls to the ground with laughter upon seeing it. Kankuro, to Naruto’s surprise, holds out a piece of wood and a knife and tells him to try that instead. Naruto, hands cut and bleeding, creates a miniature fox, complete with nine billowing tails. It’s not so bad, he thinks. Even the Kazekage agrees.

Two moons into his stay, Naruto finds that he has a talented hand when it comes to woodwork. He spends much of his free time working with Kankuro in the sand siblings’ art room, carving out the forest spirits one by one. He is about to begin working on a block that will later become Matatabi when he realizes the knife he had borrowed off Kankuro has become dull.

“Yo, Kankuro,” Naruto says. He raises the knife into the air. “This one’s dull. Do you have anymore like it?”

Kankuro raises his head from his puppet and squints. “Nah, I don’t think so. All the ones I got are on the table over there.”

Naruto looks over the carving knives laid out by blade length. “It’s fine, I’ll pick up a new one.”

“Sure,” Kankuro says. “Same shop we get our wood from. I want to finish up this guy’s hands today. You good to go on your own?”

“Yeah.”

The shop is a short walk from the Kazekage’s home, and Naruto makes quick work of it. When he enters, he sees a familiar head of red.

“Gaara!” he calls, running up and slapping a hand to the man’s back. “Didn’t know you fancied puppetry—oh, sorry, sorry—I thought you were a friend.”

The man looking at him, eyes the color of sanded wood, laughs. “It’s alright. I am aware I resemble the Kazekage’s son.”

“Oh.”

In his flustered state, he scrambles to purchase his carving knife and blurts out a quick goodbye. When he returns, he tells Kankuro what had happened.

“What? You met Sasori of the Red Sand?”

“Who?”

“What do you mean, _who_? Haven’t you heard of Sasori—only the best puppet-maker in all of history?”

“Well, uh, I didn’t get his name—”

“Look, Naruto,” Kankuro says. He raises three fingers. “There are only three men with red hair in Sunagakure. My father, my brother, and _Sasori of the Red Sand_.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t know—he said he gets mistaken as Gaara all the time—”

“He was being _polite_.”

“Oh.”

Kankuro throws his head back in an exasperated yell. “I should have gone with you! Sasori’s already out of Sunagakure enough as it is, the Puppet Trade takes him all over. I really want to ask him how he’s been able to get such natural movement in the knees and elbows—”

“He might still be there if you run.”

In two swift movements, Kankuro grabs his puppet and bolts out the door. Gaara and Temari poke their heads into the room and ask what happened. Naruto, with the sudden whirlwind of events catching up to him, falls off his chair in laughter.

A year flies by like grains in a sandstorm. Jiraiya and Naruto leave Sunagakure with a personal sendoff from the Kazekage himself. Gaara gifts him a small gourd filled with red sand, Temari hands him a fan painted with green forests, and Kankuro shoves at him a wooden carving of Jiraiya and him, trudging through a hill of sand.

“Thank you for your friendship,” Gaara says.

* * *

After Sunagakure, they make their way to Amegakure, a small village riddled with rain. It takes a moon of travel because of the looming winter, with frequent stops for warmth. In the Fire Country, winters never fall cold enough for anyone to wear furs. Two days into the journey to Amegakure, Jiraiya had begun collecting the pelts of the rabbits they hunted and had set one over Naruto’s shoulders. They have been in Amegakure for half a year, and yet they still find themselves shivering when the wind blows particularly strong.

Naruto, his cloak pulled tight around his shoulders and hood high upon his head, is grumbling about his wet shoes when a man suddenly grabs Jiraiya by the shoulder. Naruto leaps for him, kicking the man in the gut and pushing him to the nearest wall, his forearm against his neck.

“Naruto, wait!” Jiraiya calls. “Wait, I know him!”

Naruto blinks, stepping back. “Shit, sorry.”

The man coughs, rubbing his throat. “It’s alright. Damn, Jiraiya-sensei—he’s good.”

“Jiraiya… sensei?” Naruto says, looking between the two. The man has hair the same hue as his mother’s and an odd pair of eyes, fully lavender with a set of circles around his irises. He wears a black cloak with a high collar and red clouds sewn into the cloth. He doesn’t look familiar.

“Nagato,” Jiraiya says warmly. He embraces him. “It’s good to see you. This is Naruto, Kushina’s kid. You two are related, actually.”

“We are?” Naruto says.

“Ah,” Nagato says. “Your mother and I are cousins.”

“Oh,” Naruto laughs sheepishly. “Sorry again about the entrance.”

Nagato shakes his head. “No, it was my bad. I shouldn’t have come on so strongly—” He turns to Jiraiya, a sense of urgency in his voice. “—but Jiraiya-sensei, we’ve been trying to get into contact with you for three moons. Sasori had mentioned you were staying in Sunagakure for a while, but by the time we sent messengers, you had already left. It’s a lucky coincidence I’ve come across you here. There have been advancements you need to be notified of.”

“Very well,” Jiraiya says. “Let’s get going.”

“Sasori of the Red Sand?” Naruto says. “I met him once, in a puppet shop.”

“Yes, that would be him, then,” says Nagato.

“I see,” Naruto says. “Wait, where are we going?”

“The Land of Rivers,” Jiraiya says. “We, uh, actually passed through on our way to Sunagakure—only, I didn’t think it was important enough to point out. It’s quite small, you see.”

“Oh.”

“You’re going to meet the Akatsuki.”

* * *

Nagato is difficult to keep up with. He covers twice the distance Naruto is used to, but to Jiraiya’s delight, prefers to settle down in ryokans for the sole purpose of washing after a long day’s journey. Naruto is glad to have someone to roll his eyes with when Jiraiya conducts his peeping research.

Nagato shares his childhood with Naruto, telling him about his time with Jiraiya and his friends, Yahiko and Konan, but is hesitant to say anything more regarding Shimura advancements. Jiraiya only mentions once that Uchiha Danzo is rumored to be truly Shimura, though evidence has been lacking. Naruto huffs, trudging along in a haze of confusion. He asks an onslaught of _What does the Akatsuki do?_ _Where do you get your intel from? Do you guys fight in the war? Who joins the Akatsuki? How many members do you have?_ His questions are answered with chuckles and shaking of heads and “you’ll find out soon enough.” He knows the moment they enter the Land of Rivers. The rain stops and the ground underfoot is once again solid. They pass over a hill at one point, and at the top, he can see rivers and creeks crossing over the land like the veins in his arms.

“All the rain in Amegakure pours into the rivers here,” Nagato says.

Naruto wonders which river leads to the one back home.

Two days after they first meet Nagato and five days after they cross the border to the Land of Rivers, they arrive at the Akatsuki hideout. The entrance lies in the mouth of a jagged mountain, behind stacked boulders. The path is difficult to see and even harder to navigate. Nagato weaves around the stones as naturally as fish in water. The cave swallows them in darkness. Naruto shivers, the sweat in his hair cooling against his skin. He can hear water dripping onto stone nearby, a few shuffles and whispers around odd corners.

“I’ll let you guys get cleaned up first,” Nagato says as they reach a hallway lit by candles hanging on stone walls. Naruto thinks his eyes look creepier in the dark. “Sensei, your room will be here, and Naruto, you can take the one next to his. They’re not much, but we get by. I’ll be back soon to take you to the meeting room for dinner.” He pauses, looking sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind a meeting over a meal—we’re rather eager to get a move on.”

“Will I get my questions answered then?” Naruto asks.

“Yes,” Nagato says. “Most members are present today. You’ll meet them soon. Our newest one joined a few moons ago and he’s around your age, I believe. He’s a bit quiet. I think you two might get along.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Naruto rolls his eyes and pushes the door to his room open. _I don’t talk_ that _much._

It’s a depressing sight. The room is dark, lit only by the candlelight in the hall. There is a single futon in the corner, elevated on a wooden platform from the damp floor, and a desk against the stone wall. Naruto heaves his pack from his shoulders and shrugs off his clothing. He wets a small towel with his water sack and wipes it over himself. It’s not a bath, but it would have to do for now. He risks a sniff of his sweat-stained clothing and wrinkles his nose. He tosses them to the corner and pulls on a fresh yukata. Nagato knocks just as he has smoothed the wrinkles out of the cloth.

The hideout is connected by winding halls, each one illuminated by flickering candlelight. Nagato and Jiraiya murmur amongst themselves as they make their way to a wide set of doors at the end of a hall. Naruto can make out shuffling and muffled voices on the other side. Nagato pushes it open with a creak.

Naruto knows that Jiraiya is familiar with some of the Akatsuki members in the way they rise from their seats to clap his back and grasp his hands. He glances over the black cloaks with red clouds and hastily takes a seat next to Nagato, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of the soy sauce and sashimi as the others take their seats. When he opens them again, his mouth goes slack.

Sitting at the other end of the table, his black cloak open to reveal a silk kimono adorned with a red and white fan on each breast, is Uchiha Sasuke.

* * *

Sasuke has always been confident, whether he was skipping stones or catching fish or throwing shuriken. But there is something new in the way he carries himself, his shoulders pulled back, cloaked in thick silk and cotton. He doesn’t keep his chin in the air like some men do, hiding insecurities behind haughty remarks and glances. He sits with his back straight, his hands in his lap, his quiet elegance speaking volumes in itself.

His hair is longer, coming to rest by his chin. The ends still stand up like the butt of a bird. His chin is sharper, his face angled and no longer plump with childhood. Only his eyes, wide as he stares back at Naruto, are the same, dark and heavy as clouds before a storm. Naruto feels as though his chest is about to pull itself apart.

He has imagined countless times the moment he would return to Sasuke. He has always imagined he would leap into him, falling with laughter, the river nipping at their ankles. They would skip stones and repaint themselves on the trees in the clearing. He would press onigiri into his hands and tell him stories of Suna, a land without trees, and the ocean, with diving hawks and screaming waves. He has never imagined they would meet again like this.

“—Naruto?” Jiraiya mutters. Naruto jerks out of his trance to meet his gaze. “You should take a bite just to be polite, before they think you hate fish or something—”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, quickly shoving a few pieces in his mouth.

As he chews, he glances at the men sitting near Sasuke, and it begins to make sense. To Sasuke’s left is a man who looks exactly like him, only older, his hair long and held together in a ponytail. Itachi. Another seat down is a man with cropped black hair and large, dark eyes. He looks less like Sasuke, but his coloring is definitely Uchiha. Naruto meets Sasuke’s gaze again, and this time Sasuke offers him a little smile, a corner of his mouth tilting up higher than the other like it does when he has stories he wants to tell.

“As you all may very well know,” Nagato says. “We are joined today by Jiraiya and the Senju heir, Naruto. It has been a long time coming. Let’s get started. Itachi?”

At the other end of the table, Itachi clears his throat. When he speaks, his voice is smooth, deep. “Five moons ago, Danzo stopped all body burning ceremonies in favor of burials. Two moons later, he enlisted the Shimura clan for burial preparations for their skills in medicinal practices and removed all Uchiha from burial work. Around that time, Hatake and I began to patrol the gravesites in secret. We found fresh dirt over old graves.”

“The Fire Ceremonies have been sacred in our culture,” Shisui says, looking at Naruto. “But they were also useful in burning the eyes of whoever had passed along with them—a way to protect the family secret, if you will.”

“Then how did Danzo get the rest of the clan to agree to stopping the Fire Ceremonies?” Jiraiya asks.

“Danzo stopped it with the reason that smoke is easy to track, making our location known,” Itachi says. “With Madara falling ill, his hold on the Uchiha has been getting stronger.”

“Wait, how do we even know Uchiha Danzo is Shimura Danzo?” Naruto says. “I thought it was a rumor?”

“His eyes are my father’s,” Shisui says. “My father defected from the clan and took me with him. I was a boy then. I left early one morning to hunt, and he was dead when I returned. His eyes were gouged out. Soon after, I hear news of a long-lost Uchiha Danzo. I looked into it and there had been a recent death of a Shimura Danzo. He kept his name, for simplicity, I gather.”

Naruto loses whatever remaining will he has to eat. “That’s a horrible thing to come back to. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Shisui says. “I understand the evidence isn’t perfect, but there are more signs. For one, Danzo has never been able to hold his Sharingan for long. Without Uchiha blood, the user is prone to fatigue. He addresses the clan with Sharingan, but takes long breaks between appearances. Right now, we just have to figure out how to stop him. His two biggest enemies are Madara’s only living kin—these two”—he jabs his thumb at Itachi and Sasuke—“The Uchiha are fighting the wrong enemy.”

The rest of the meal is spent trying to discuss different ways to stop the Shimura. At the end of the evening, conversation slows down and becomes scattered. The Akatsuki talk amongst themselves and Naruto watches a young man named Yahiko gesture wildly at Jiraiya as Nagato and a woman named Konan shake with laughter. He sneaks glances at Sasuke, who seems to be absorbed in conversation with Itachi and Sasori.

With Yahiko throwing out story after story, Naruto doesn’t realize Nagato has left his seat until he feels his hand on his shoulder.

“Jiraiya-sensei, Naruto,” says Nagato. “I’d like you two to meet Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Sasuke.”

Naruto snaps his head around. Itachi and Sasuke are standing by Nagato. Itachi wears a polite smile on his face and Sasuke has his hands twisted in his cloak. Unlike the others, Sasuke does not wear a shoulder of fur pelts. He’s always preferred the cold.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Itachi says. “This is my little brother, Sasuke, though I’m aware you are familiar.”

It takes all of his willpower not to dive into Sasuke. He grips the back of his chair as he stands to greet them, afraid he might lose his balance and fall. Itachi is half a head taller than he and Sasuke.

“Hello,” Sasuke offers. His voice is lower than he remembers.

Naruto swallows. “Hi.”

* * *

Sleep is hard to come by.

Naruto shifts on his futon, then sighs and flips onto his back. The wooden platform creaks against its legs. He hadn’t said much to Sasuke at dinner. They’d had a few awkwardly polite exchanges before Nagato pulled him away to meet the rest of the Akatsuki.

_I need to find him._

He sits up and shuffles out of bed, the stone ground cold against his bare feet. When he opens the door and makes to leave, Sasuke is on the other side, arm raised and hand poised to knock. Naruto yelps. “Shit—!”

He stares at the way the candlelight flickers against his hair. Even in the dark, he knows Sasuke’s ears must be bright red.

“Nagato told me where to find you,” Sasuke says. For a moment he looks afraid. “I—I have a lot to tell you.”

He pulls Sasuke into the room and leaps into him, pushing Sasuke into the wall, burying his face in his neck, re-memorizing a scent he has already memorized a thousand times over. His body is familiar yet new, wider and lean with muscle, his grip on Naruto stronger. He has a hundred questions to ask, a million stories to tell, but all he can get out of his mouth is—“I missed you.”

“I know,” Sasuke says. His voice shakes, his chest pushing against Naruto’s. “Usuratonkachi, I know.”

When they part, Sasuke closes the door behind him and they sit across one another on the futon. It feels natural, being alone with him, as natural as the sun rising and falling each day.

“It was hard when you left,” Sasuke says.

“I know.”

The candlelight from the hallway peeks through from underneath the door. Naruto realizes he has never seen Sasuke like this, in lines and curves hidden in shadow, clad in the crests of the family whose members he has killed. Sasuke wears his yukata as if he has just thrown it on, loose and open against his chest, the warm light pressing against his collarbones. Naruto swallows.

He thinks he catches Sasuke watch the movement of his throat. He blinks. Sasuke is staring at the wall behind him.

Sasuke tells him about Itachi coming for him in the forest, about the apologies he had for leaving him to the forest spirits all those years ago and the proposal he had to end the war. Itachi had intended to leave Sasuke in the safety of the forest spirits until the war was over. He’d watched him from time to time, staying as far as possible, making sure he was okay. He hadn’t expected Sasuke would befriend the Senju heir, or that said Senju heir would be the one to find out about Sasuke’s heritage. Most Uchiha, save for Danzo and his close units, had welcomed Sasuke back with open arms. Naturally, they had him in warrior training as soon as possible.

“I wasn’t very good with the katana at first,” Sasuke says, laughing. “Terrible, actually. But even Madara was impressed with my shuriken accuracy.”

“Good thing I had you practicing early,” Naruto says. He watches the way Sasuke’s eyes squint with mirth, his mouth open in laughter. It makes his chest fill with warmth. Then, he asks a question he’s been afraid to ask since he first saw him. “They haven’t sent you out to the front lines yet, have they?”

Sasuke shakes his head. “Danzo’s been trying, but Itachi put his foot down. He said I’d be more useful delivering supplies instead.”

He lets out a breath. “Good.”

“What?”

“The frontlines. I hope you never have to go.”

Sasuke looks at him for a long time. “You can’t keep me in the forest forever, Naruto. I’m not the same boy anymore.” 

Sasuke’s hands are in his lap, his palms up, fingers gently curled. Even in the dark, Naruto can see the candlelight tracing his callouses—the callouses of a warrior, skin thickened from wielding a blade. 

“I know,” Naruto says. “Wait, I have something for you.” He runs to his pack and pulls out the wooden carvings of the forest spirits. “I made them when I was in Sunagakure. My friend, Kankuro, is really good at puppetry.”

“They’re beautiful,” Sasuke says. “I miss them.”

Kurama had once told Naruto that Sasuke’s alliance with the Uchiha would mean his loss of the forest spirits, the family that raised him. Naruto takes Sasuke’s hand, running his thumb over the smooth skin of his wrist. His grief lies heavy between them.

* * *

“Tell me about the ocean,” Sasuke says. He is standing in the river by the hideout, his yukata tied above his knees, scanning the water for fish.

Naruto stands on the riverbank, a basket of a dozen fish already cleaned and gutted. He flips the knife in his hand, watching the way the sun catches on its blade. “I told you last night.”

“I want to hear it again.”

“You’d love it,” Naruto says. “It’s bluer than anything you have ever seen, great enough that it touches the sky. It comes and goes, clawing at the earth as if it’s trying to stand up and walk.” He likes the way Sasuke’s eyes light up from the reflection of the sun in the water. “But the waves—the waves are beautiful. They hit the land in big bursts but never stay. They’re loud, like nothing you have ever heard before.”

“I wonder if you’d be able to skip stones in the ocean,” Sasuke says.

Naruto squints. He hadn’t gone close enough to touch it. “Probably not. The water’s too rough. The stones would never bounce.”

“I’d still want to try.”

Sasuke throws his hands into the river and brings out a flopping fish. He tosses it to Naruto and makes his way to the riverbank, plopping down with a sigh.

“We could go,” Sasuke says as Naruto kills the fish. His hands are quick, pressing the blade underneath the gill first before opening its belly, blood spilling onto the grass. “Together. Someday, once the war has settled.”

There is a trace of uncertainty in the lilt of his voice, so faint that Naruto almost does not notice. He looks up as he places the gutted fish into the basket, catching the gentle crease of Sasuke’s brow, the curve of his lips pressed together in hopefulness.

“Yeah,” he says, rising to wash his hands in the river. The water is colder here than in the Land of Fire. He shivers, rubbing his palms together in the water, and turns back to look at Sasuke. “Let’s go.”

Sasuke’s face breaks into a smile then. He sits with his legs crossed, the cloth of his yukata still tied above his knees and riding high on the curve of his thigh. Naruto clears his throat. There is a tingling in the pit of his stomach that he cannot understand.

* * *

Even as members come and go, the Akatsuki are efficient in their work under the guidance of Yahiko and Nagato. In two days’ time, they have planned out the majority of Uchiha-Senju peace negotiations. All efforts are being placed into methods of singling out the Shimura. Jiraiya promises to ask Hashirama for Senju aid. It’s difficult without knowing how powerful the Shimura have become. But the hardest part, Nagato says, would be preserving the peace.

As the two youngest members of the Akatsuki, Sasuke and Naruto are often tasked with fishing and hunting. The Akatsuki don’t treat them as clan heirs, and Naruto finds that he doesn’t mind. He enjoys being able to go off into the woods with Sasuke.

Naruto feels like he has known Sasuke for seconds and years all at once. He loses himself in watching Sasuke’s fingers skim the waxy faces of leaves or close around the round, twisting bodies of fish. He smiles when Sasuke speaks his mind during the Akatsuki meetings, his voice strong and confident, steady. Many of Sasuke’s movements are as familiar as the morning’s dew, and yet there are so many he has never known before. There is a new tightness in his chest whenever he sees Sasuke, a kind of warm giddiness akin to the clumsy dancing of bumblebees when they find new pollen.

He first catches it over dinner, the way Sasuke’s eyes settle on his own before flickering to his lips just as he closes his mouth over a fresh cut of fish. Then again, when he is swimming in the river, his clothing thrown on the bank just as he had done when they were younger, and Sasuke takes a sudden interest in the ants at his feet when Naruto pulls himself out of the water. And again, when Sasuke knocks on his door late one evening and he answers with his yukata thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, as he had been about to head out for a bath, and Sasuke runs his gaze over his open chest before getting a word out.

On his third day, as he is heading to the river in the early morning to wash his clothes, he catches a figure squatting by the bank.

“Hi,” he says.

Itachi looks over his shoulder as he scrubs at a dark cloth. “Hello, Naruto. Laundry?”

“Yep.”

“It’s a bit better down here,” Itachi says. He nods at the river by his feet. “The water’s faster. Probably doesn’t make a difference, but it feels cleaner.”

Itachi sounds friendlier than he does during meetings, less rigid and formal. Naruto shuffles down to join him, tossing a yukata into the water and waving it around.

“Do you wash your own clothes often back home?” Itachi asks.

Naruto scrubs the cloth in his hands together. “Not really,” he says. “People usually did it for me, until I left with Jiraiya. Learned how to do it myself once ‘Senju heir’ lost meaning outside the compound.”

“It’s not so bad,” Itachi says. “In a world of war, it’s the only constant. Humans fight and conspire and die, but at the end of the day, we’ve all got to do it. And it’s simple work. True and straightforward. If you wash your clothes, you can be sure they will be clean.”

Naruto laughs quietly. He dunks the cloth back in the water.

“You mean a lot to my little brother.”

Naruto wrings out his yukata, the water running in streams down his wrists, dripping from his elbows. “We grew up together. I spent all my free time there, by the river in the forest. I can’t remember what my life was like before I met him.”

“I’ve made many mistakes,” Itachi says. “I shouldn’t have left Sasuke in the forest as a baby, shouldn’t have kept him from who he was. I thought I was keeping him safe. And yet, I’ve made it all worse by asking him to return. He is at my side once again, but lacking in training, in knowledge. I would have left him there, in the forest, but you didn’t see what he was like once you had left.” He shakes his head. His gaze is sharp when he looks at Naruto. “My little brother—he gave up family when he had none, in order to remain in the forest with you. He gave up his birthright. For you. You are everything to him, Naruto.”

* * *

“What?”

He knows very well what he had said. He stabs the fish he is halfway through gutting, leaves the knife hilt up.

“It happens in all the stories, in all the history scrolls,” Sasuke says. “And I’m second-born. Not as important as you or Itachi. Heir to nothing.”

“You are not nothing, Sasuke. Far from it.”

“No matter.”

There’s an odd feeling in his chest, snaking its way up his throat, as if a hand is grasping his heart and trying to tear the organ out his mouth. Sasuke is right. Marriage between Uchiha and Senju is very likely the last step to peace. “I’m not letting them marry you off.”

“But the war would be over, and we’d be family. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Not like that.” Naruto tries to breathe, but the hand has dislodged his lungs. “Being sent off to breed like some—some _sperm stock_ , how can you be okay with it?”

“Of course I’m not,” Sasuke spits. His eyes are red, his voice rising. “But when has anyone ever asked? When your great-uncle killed my parents, and Itachi gave me up, and you left me, and the forest spirits went silent—did anyone bother to ask if I would _be okay with it_?”

Naruto stares. Sasuke, realizing his slip, returns his eyes to black and lowers his voice. “Wait, Naruto—”

“What did you just say.”

His voice is quiet. It isn’t a question.

“Naruto….”

“Tobirama-ojisama, he killed your parents?”

Sasuke watches the soil suck the blood seeping from the half-gutted fish. An ant crawls up its tail, tiny antennae twitching.

“Answer me, Sasuke.”

“Yes, he did. Night of the Fire Festival.”

Suddenly it makes sense. Hashirama’s careful surveillance over his own brother’s movements, his reluctance to let Tobirama stoke Naruto’s own fiery passion for battle. Tobirama had only entered his life in his sixth year, after his six-year leave from Senju. Naruto, a child then, had never questioned it. But there is something about the timeline that makes him weary.

“When was this Fire Festival?”

Sasuke doesn’t answer. Naruto pulls the knife from the scaly flesh, sweeps away the exploring ants, and continues to open its belly.

“On the tenth day of the tenth moon, twenty years ago.”

His hand slips.

The blade sinks into the soft flesh of his forearm, opening doors to a flowering red as loud as the sudden drumming in his ears. Naruto stills. His blood is warm against his skin, swirling down his arm and freckling the grass. He turns and empties his stomach on the ground behind him.

“You met him.” His voice is a croak, a whisper almost lost. He swipes his uninjured arm over his mouth. “I made you come to the compound on the tenth day of the tenth moon, ten years after it happened, and made you stand before the man that did it. I go into battle and kill the people who might’ve been your friends. How— _how_ can you even bear to look at me?”

Sasuke moves at last. He reaches for Naruto, holds his face in his hands and wipes the vomit from his chin. “When Itachi first told me, I was in a rage,” he says. “I almost hated you then. Only, Itachi didn’t. This war is a wheel of revenge, and it crushes everyone in its path. My parentswere no different. They killed your other uncles, so Tobirama took them. You kill and lose and kill again. I am here with Akatsuki for a reason, Naruto. I’m trying to fight for peace.”

“Revenge comes from love,” Naruto says. He looks into Sasuke’s eyes as if he is a blind man learning there is a sky for the first time, and repeats a question even Jiraiya could not answer. “Who are we to tell them to stop?”

“We are the same as them. Human. That is what makes it powerful. Maybe it’s because I’ve never lost anyone I know to death,” Sasuke says. “So I’m naive, stupid. But I think I would much rather protect those I love than kill those I do not.”

* * *

“After the coup, we will need a way to maintain peace between the two clans,” Shisui says. He shifts his gaze between Jiraiya and Naruto. “The traditional route would be a marriage, between Uchiha and Senju.”

“The two main families only have sons,” Jiraiya says, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. “However, there are many families in Senju with young ladies who are of age.”

“We would need one of Senju name,” Shisui says. “Otherwise, it would not be a marriage between our two families.”

Naruto doesn’t like where the conversation is headed. Part of him wishes he had let Jiraiya, Shisui, and Itachi have this discussion alone. Not that Itachi, in his silence, was contributing. He knows, before Jiraiya speaks, what is coming next, the name of his cousin, the only other Senju—

“Uzumaki Karin of Senju,” Jiraiya says. “Naruto’s cousin. She’s around Sasuke’s age. They’d make for a respectable arrangement—”

“No,” Naruto blurts.

Jiraiya and Shisui turn to stare at him. He hadn’t really planned what to say next.

“This doesn’t directly concern you,” says Jiraiya slowly. “And it’s the only way, to ensure Itachi and you are both—”

“There must be another way,” Naruto says. “A—a friendship, if you will. Between Sasuke and me. He can come and live in the Senju compound. The Uchiha wouldn’t attack if he’s living there.”

“And what’s to say the Senju would never kill him?” Shisui says.

It is Naruto’s turn to stare in shock. “I could never—”

“Kiddo,” Jiraiya says. “A friendship will never be as strong as a marriage. It will never produce heirs. It will not be enough to hold the peace.”

“It can be,” Naruto says. “If I do not marry, and neither does Sasuke, then the friendship is strong enough to uphold the peace, isn’t it?”

“That is outrageous.” Jiraiya’s anger has always been slow to manifest, yet deep in nature. His voice is carefully quiet, controlled. “You are Senju heir—the _only_ Senju heir. You must produce heirs yourself. You cannot let the line die with you.”

“Why do you even care?” Naruto yells. His anger, unlike Jiraiya’s, is quick as fresh fire. “You’d be long dead by then anyways!”

“Naruto—where do you think you’re going? This conversation isn’t finished. Naruto!”

* * *

Naruto barrels his way out of the Akatsuki hideout and follows the familiar path down to the river. He finds Sasuke training by the river’s edge, swinging his katana through the air in smooth, practiced movements. Even in the cold, Sasuke is sweating, his dark hair sticking to his temples as if someone had painted the waves of the ocean against his skin. There is a moment of stillness when Sasuke’s gaze meets his, his face tense with concentration, the space between his brows pinched.

It is suddenly clear. The tingling in his chest, the hand pulling his heart into his throat, the glances he cannot stop himself from making. Sasuke straightens, returning his katana to its saya, his face lifting into a smile.

Naruto walks to him in the way he moves in dreams, slowly as though drifting through water, until he is close enough to feel the heat of his breath against his chin and the cool of his sweat-dampened hair against his forehead. Then Sasuke reaches up and pushes his fingers into golden hair and presses their lips together.

Kissing Sasuke, in all his blacks and whites and blues, is like kissing every single shade of the sun all at once.


	6. Part 5: The Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I come bearing another chapter! Thank you for the feedback regarding last week's chapter. I'm definitely still learning as I write, and it has been very helpful. This chapter was much easier for me to write for some reason, and I had a lot of fun with it. Enjoy!

His chest burns as if on fire. He welcomes the heat, traces his fingers along the dip in the back of Sasuke’s neck, pushes into this new feeling of Sasuke’s lips against his own. His chest burns and burns and burns.

(Then he realizes it’s because he’s not breathing.)

Naruto breaks away with a gasp and Sasuke looks breathless—his cheeks are pink and his ears, pinker—but somehow not as breathless as he feels. He catches Sasuke’s eye and is suddenly filled to the brim with giddiness, the fluttering kind that makes him want to lift his arms into the air and holler at the trees. He imagines this is what new petals must feel the first time the breeze lifts them up, up, up.

“Where…” he pauses, inhales, tries again. “Where in the world did you learn to kiss like that?”

He asks because he has definitely spent a considerable amount of time flipping through Jiraiya’s stories, and yet somehow Sasuke was just _better_.

“I read.” Sasuke’s voice is husky, deep. There is a glint in his eye. “There are many, many scrolls in the corners of the Uchiha library. With sketches.”

* * *

His fingers close around water—again—and he watches in dismay as the silver fish slips away. “Fuck!”

“Too slow, usuratonkachi.” Sasuke stands knee-deep on the other side of the river, smirking with his fat fish. Naruto never understands how he manages to do it with his bare hands.

“Shut it,” he huffs, but lets his eyes wander to the silk yukata tied and bunched around Sasuke’s thighs. Sasuke’s smirk grows.

“Like what you see?”

Naruto kicks water at him. “I swear your ego is getting so big, you’re gonna get your giant head stuck between two trees and guess who won’t save you then? Me!”

“Well, I’m feeling quite tired,” Sasuke pretends to inspect his flopping fish. “I think I might call it a day. I mean, I’ve already caught _my_ dinner—” 

“Wait, no, I’m sorry—Sasuke! I’m hungry and sorry! So so sorry. Please catch me a fish, kind sir.”

Sasuke laughs and tosses the fish on land and crouches over the water to find another one, his shoulders shaking with mirth. The water reflects broken sunlight onto his smiling face.

Naruto stares until Sasuke returns his gaze. He fumbles out of the river to kill the flopping fish with his katana. Sasuke waves another fat catch in the air and joins Naruto in cooking the fish over a hastily-made fire. Naruto hums as he eats, tearing at the flesh with his teeth and carefully avoiding the thin bones.

“Na, Sasuke,” he says between chewing and swallowing. “The other day—when I called you, um, _that_ —I didn’t mean it. I was just—I didn’t want you to be married off. I know you meant well. It was unfair of me. I’m sorry.”

Sasuke reaches over and rests his hand on Naruto’s knee, squeezing it. “It’s okay.”

Naruto offers him a smile, placing his hand on top of Sasuke’s. They chew for a moment in silence, before Naruto waves his fish in the air so it gawks in the direction of the Akatsuki hideout.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

Sasuke seems to think for a moment before answering. The Akatsuki were having their last meeting before dispersal tomorrow morning. Itachi had let Naruto and Sasuke go off on their own instead. “Itachi’s giving a quick proposal. Finalizing the plan on the Uchiha end. We want to dig up some graves.”

“What?” Naruto frowns. “Dig _up_ graves?”

“We need to see if our theory is right—if the Shimura are taking the eyes.” Sasuke looks at his fish, peeling at the burned skin. “It won’t be too hard. We’ll just do a few of the recent graves. The bodies can only be dead for so long before rot sets in. If they’re missing eyes, we’ll be able to tell.”

Naruto looks at him, sees the nervous bite of his lip. “The graves are guarded, aren’t they.”

“Heavily.”

“You can’t go.”

Sasuke takes a bite. “I respect Shisui, but the entire plan is based on a suspicion. I can’t let you risk your life over a suspicion. We need concrete evidence.”

“Then I’m coming with you. In case something goes wrong.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Sasuke—”

Sasuke flicks his head. “With your hair? Uchiha will come flying to kill you.”

Naruto pouts for a moment.

“Fine. But be careful. I’m going to murder Itachi if anything happens to you.” He takes another mouthful of fish, a lopsided smile working its way across his face. “Flying to kill me? I’m flattered. Rumor has it that Uchiha find me absolutely _irresistible_.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Your ears are red.” Naruto presses an oily kiss to his cheek, watching goosebumps rise under the flicker of his breath.

“Shut—” He doesn’t finish because—

_Have you ever felt the sky against your lips?_

* * *

When Naruto wakes up, Sasuke and his brother have already departed. He knows this because he finds a basket of fresh fish, fat and gleaming and clumsily gutted, outside his door. Along with a soggy note.

_Had to leave early to join Hatake’s returning unit since Danzo doesn’t know we’re here. You look funny when you sleep. I’ll see you soon._

“Caught us breakfast, kiddo?” Jiraiya stretches as he steps from his room, his pack strapped to his back. “Nice.”

“Um, sure,” Naruto says. He tucks the note into his yukata and kicks the basket at his general. “I did the hunting, you do the cooking.”

They hadn’t continued the conversation on marriage since Naruto stormed out, though he thinks Jiraiya seems to have calmed down a bit, content to push it to later. Jiraiya roasts the fish in the Akatsuki kitchen and they pair it with rice, natto, and miso soup. Breakfast is quick and once they are done, Nagato, Yahiko, and Konan see them off with lengthy goodbyes.

“Oi, Ero-sennin,” Naruto calls as Jiraiya stalks off in the wrong direction. Jiraiya turns. “Home’s that way.” He points behind him.

“Ah,” Jiraiya says. “We’re not going back just yet. I have a surprise.”

Naruto rubs his hands together. “Oh, oh, where?”

“You’ll see.” Jiraiya hands him a paper with a seal drawn onto it. “I had this made for you. Keep it on you, or you’ll get lost.”

Naruto eyes it. “‘Reverse summoning.’ What’s that mean?”

“You won’t be able to get there without it. Take it and follow me.”

Naruto folds it into his pocket and steps after Jiraiya.

The first thousand steps or so, nothing changes. The rivers weave through one another like blue threads of silk, murmuring secrets to the lands they pass. The sun sits high and yet, somehow, the longer they walk, the higher it rises, its rays reaching farther and farther across all ends of the sky.

The rivers meld into one, and the leaves on the trees become larger and fewer until, suddenly, the trees do not look like trees at all, but rather like giant leaves as long as Naruto is tall, their stems sprouting thick and high from the ground. The boulders and rocks—Naruto rubs at his eyes—begin to take on the shape of frogs, until they become so exact he is sure they must be the work of an artist. He is about to open his mouth and question his sanity when he sees a figure standing next to a large golden structure, resembling the bottom of a butterfly cocoon with water flowing from its end. 

“Touchan!” he calls.

“Surprise!” Minato says—albeit a bit too late—and opens his arms. Naruto runs to embrace him. “My, you’ve grown into a man. I’ve missed you.”

“What are you doing here? What is this place?”

“This,” Jiraiya gestures around. “This is Myobokusan, the Mountain of Mystery. Land of the toad spirits. Entry only upon invite, you know. Hence, the seal.”

“I studied here, with Jiraiya-sensei, for a period of my life,” Minato says. He pulls out a piece of paper like the one Naruto has in his pocket. “I myself have an invite as well.”

“I wrote your father a few days back,” Jiraiya says. “I wanted to teach you to harness natural energy before stepping back to the war. I had planned for a longer stay here, after our trip to Amegakure, before we got interrupted… but no matter. We’ll make what we can of this.”

“Jiraiya! Minato! My, you’ve both grown old. It has been a very long time.”

Naruto whips his head around. A croaky, almost wrinkly, voice had spoken, but there is no one to be seen.

“Down here, kiddo,” the voice says.

Naruto looks down and gasps, “A talking frog!”

The frog, dressed in a grey cloak and adorning white eyebrows, hair, and goatee, flings a pebble at his forehead. “Manners, kiddo! I am no wet, slimy frog! I am one of the ancient _toad_ spirits of Myobokusan!”

“Oh, sorry! Sorry! Of course, uh—”

“That’s Fukasaku-sama for you, kiddo.” Fukasaku strokes his goatee. With a hop, he lands on Jiraiya’s shoulder. “Though I am surprised you find a talking toad so out of the ordinary, given the fact that you are currently host to the great tailed spirit of Kurama.”

“Kurama doesn’t _talk_ talk, though. It’s more just, in my head.”

“Ah, yes. The forest spirits prefer to speak to the human mind itself. Apologies, my old brain sometimes forgets how humans communicate with those of the spirit world.”

Minato and Jiraiya stare. Naruto laughs nervously, his hand coming to his belly.

“Pardon me, Fukasaku-sama, did you just say my _son_ is host to Kurama, the nine-tailed beast spirit of the forest?”

“You couldn’t possibly believe Naruto’s golden battle spirit was a phenomenon of his own doing?”

Minato is silent. He has never seen Naruto in battle. Direct family are forbidden to fight on the frontlines together by Senju rule. Parental love and the need to protect could lead to battlefield complications. He has heard rumors, however, but disregarded them as dramatic tales of admiring warriors on the battlefield.

“I had my suspicions,” Jiraiya says. “But he has had the golden spirit since his first trip to the frontlines.”

“Ah. He bears the markings of the fox. It is fate,” Fukasaku says. He eyes Naruto. “Kiddo, you have been host to Kurama for a while now. Yet, I sense that you do not harness his natural energy to its fullest extent. He may protect you in battle, but there is so much more that you can do. It is good that Jiraiya has brought you here. We can help you—”

_Smash!_

One of the larger toad boulders falls to its side and rolls, grinning, until it is face to face with Naruto. He squawks.

“Oops,” a low voice rumbles. Shadow falls upon them. “Jiraiya, Minato—is that really you?”

Naruto tilts his head up to find himself now facing a giant rust-colored toad spirit dressed in a blue vest, standing a full head taller than Jiraiya. The toad reaches out a padded hand and rights the statue he had knocked over with ease. “Still working on that summoning position—”

Fukasaku shakes his head, “Bunta, you’ve been working on it for over a century. It shouldn’t be this difficult—”

“Easy for you to say. I’m not the size of a _fly_ —”

“Bunta!” Jiraiya exclaims. He slams himself into the toad. “Yo!”

Even Minato, ever so collected, seems like he can hardly contain his excitement. “Bunta! It’s so good to see you.”

After exchanging greetings, Bunta freezes and slowly turns to Naruto. He crouches until he is eye-level with Naruto’s stomach. “Kurama, is that you? Fond enough of a human to bond to him? I must admit my surprise.”

**_Piss off, bug-eater._ **

Naruto’s jaw tightens. He watches for Bunta’s reaction, waiting for anger, indignation, but Bunta throws his flat head back and roars with laughter. “You remember!” He winks at Naruto. “Beat him once in a spar. Wrestled those tails into the ground, I did. He will never live that down.” He chuckles and turns and calls with a voice that makes the trees shake. “ _Kichi_! _Tatsu_! Come and meet the guests!”

Two toads—both the size of Naruto’s hand—sprint-hop their way over and settle on Bunta’s head, bouncing in anticipation. They eye Naruto, Minato, and Jiraiya, little mouths somehow curling into smiles. “Humans! Humans!”

“My sons,” Bunta says. He gestures at the orange toad, who very much looks like a smaller version of himself. “Kichi, my eldest, and,”—he gestures at the yellow one, whose face is rounder and shiny—“Tatsu. Children, these are my friends, Jiraiya and Minato, and I believe, Minato’s son….”

“Naruto,” Naruto finishes.

“Yo!” Kichi says.

“Wow, hello!” Tatsu bursts. “Did you bring any snacks?”

“Tatsu!” Kichi smacks his brother.

“Unfortunately, no,” Jiraiya laughs. “But—”

“That’s alright!” Tatsu bounces on his father’s head. “We were just about to have lunch. Join us!”

“Uh, actually, we’re alright for now—” Minato says at the same time that Naruto nods, “Yes! Yes! I’m hungry!”

As they make their way to Bunta’s home, Naruto sees his father lean towards Jiraiya.

“You didn’t tell him?”

Jiraiya claps his hands together. “He’ll see.”

Naruto did see.

It’s beautiful—from a distance. Pinks and greens and blues and whites arranged in intricate designs. But up close, it’s a different story. Heaps and heaps of insects, splayed out on leaves, dead and glistening in bright colors. Scaly wings and hairy legs and larval parts float in bowls of steaming blue liquid. He swears he sees something twitch. 

Naruto catches his father’s eye.

Minato shrugs, but his face has a slight tint of green. “It’s really not that bad.”

* * *

The fountain of sacred oil is soft and gurgling as he dips two fingers into it. He runs his fingers across his forehead. His belly begins to thrum with heat.

“Good,” Fukasaku says. “The sacred oil will aid you in harnessing Kurama’s natural energy. It will render natural energy tangible. Eventually, you will learn to do so on your own.”

“Why can’t I just grab a bottle before I go?” Naruto asks. He crosses his legs and places his hands in his lap to prepare for meditation. “For future use, y’know.”

“The sacred oil will not persist in your human world,” Fukasaku says. “It will evaporate upon leaving Myobokusan—have you two taught this child nothing at all?”

Jiraiya and Minato splutter. Naruto laughs, then closes his eyes.

“I can feel Kurama—I can see his energy. It’s red.”

“Yes,” says Fukasaku. “But I want you to feel. Focus on that energy—the way its color _feels_ —and follow it outward.”

It is as if he has left his body and is floating above himself, watching Kurama’s red burn bright in his center. He squints. There is a fainter energy, a lighter, orange one above Kurama’s. His own.

 ** _No, Senju no gaki._** Kurama rumbles. **_You must enter and feel from your own energy. That is how you can join mine, and how we will be able to draw outwards._**

Naruto, still floating above his own body, tries to dive into his orange center, but stays where he is. He feels like he is swimming against a strong current. Grunting, he pulls energy into himself and tries again—

_Thwack!_

“Ow!” Naruto jolts out of his trance, holding his head. He glares at Fukasaku standing before him, stick raised. “What was that for?”

“You must begin again. You must not see, only feel. Sight requires too much of us. You will take in too much natural energy and turn into a stone toad.” The old toad spirit waves his arm at the large toad statues before them. “These are those who have failed.”

“ _What?_ ”

“No worries, kiddo. Jiraiya and your father were both successful. Kurama will protect you somewhat. I will wake you, as I have just done, when I feel you pulling in too much natural energy.”

“Why—why am I doing this again? I like being human and, uh, not a rock.”

“Human life is fragile. Harnessing the natural energy will do you great good. In times of need, you may draw energy from the world around you. You may sense the wellbeing of those close to you. However, given that you are connected to a tailed spirit of the forest, you may be able to go beyond the limitations of human beings—beyond what other humans have done before. Kurama, in bonding to you, gives you access to his strength, his healing, his sense. You have already tapped into harnessing his strength. Healing will be easy to access. Unseeing is the most challenging. I see the harnessing of natural energy as a skill beyond all else.”

Naruto nods slowly, looking at his palms.

Fukasaku stands with his hands clasped behind his back. “An invitation to Myobokusan is no meager thing. So tell me, kiddo, would you like to learn?”

He thinks of Sasuke, suddenly. Sasuke, risking his life to find evidence to solidify their cause. Sasuke, willing to trap himself in marriage to bring an end to a war that has already taken his chance to meet his parents. _This is how I can help. This is it._

“Yes.”

He closes his eyes. He is once again standing over himself—

_Thwack!_

“Try again.”

_Thwack!_

“Again.”

_Thwack!_

“Again!”

_Thwack! Thwack!_

Naruto groans. “By the time you’re done, I’ll barely have a head left.”

“Perhaps we should resume tomorrow,” Fukasaku says. “It typically takes three nights for a human to master the ability to unsee.”

“Wait, wait!” Naruto says. “Let me try again. Just one more time.”

When he closes his eyes once more, head throbbing, there is no sight. He cannot see Kurama’s energy, but he can feel its warmth, spinning with power. It feels as though it is made of silken threads in deep red, as if the sun has fallen into the depths of the earth and continues to burn away the shadows. It feels ancient, as if it has watched the creation of the moon and will go on to watch its destruction.

**_Good, Naruto. Very good. Now follow me outwards._ **

Naruto does, allowing Kurama to stretch outwards like rays of sunlight. He comes across another ball of energy in front of him, very much like Kurama’s. Fukasaku. A little further, and there are two more that he immediately recognizes as Jiraiya and his father. They are fainter than Fukasaku’s, perhaps even fainter than his own, spinning with a gentle force that Naruto knows would be the color, white. These feel thin, as if raindrops could send the threads falling away, quiet against the forest floor and lost in the tangle of rivers.

Sensing him, Kurama speaks. **_Human energies are much lighter than ours, much weaker. You may, however, notice that your own is stronger than that of your father and your head general. That is because our energies have become intertwined for so long, some of my energy has left my spirit and joined yours._**

_Then… Sasuke?_

**_Ah, Sasuke, dare I say, has one much stronger than that of a human. I raised him myself. All of us forest spirits have given him a few strands of our own energies when he was only moons old. He will remain unhurt by the powers of the forest spirits, unfazed by the diseases men fall prey to._ **

Fukasaku is pleased with Naruto’s progress.

“Even quicker than your father was,” he says.

Minato beams.

The days at Myobokusan fall together like stones in the bottom of a river. The sun rises and falls each night, and yet Naruto finds himself muddled in the current of time. Between sessions of meditation, Fukasaku trains Naruto in accessing Kurama’s strength and healing. He throws worms and larvae, all injured to some degree, in front of Naruto, having him place a hand over them to heal them. Naruto finds he quite enjoys this, even if they do end up eating the same bugs for dinner that night. Meditation and the harnessing of natural energy, however, require him to spend hours upon hours in darkness, unseeing. It leaves him disoriented.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Minato tells him one night, as they are tucked into their futons, about to fall asleep. “It’s all quite dark in the beginning.”

“How far can you, uh, see?” Naruto asks.

“Not nearly as far as you can. Only those in close proximity.”

“Did you ever use it in battle? To feel out how many opponents are coming?”

“No. I used it to check for signs of life,” Minato says. “Naruto, this isn’t meant to be a weapon. The spirits aid us, and we cannot abuse it—we should not use their power to take the lives of other human beings, no matter the disagreements we may have with one another.”

“Oh,” he says. His face heats with shame. “Of course.”

“I understand that Kurama’s strength has given you much privilege in the battlefield. It comes as protection. I believe that is the extent of spiritual aid in the wars of humanity.”

Naruto learns, under Kurama’s careful instruction and Fukasaku’s wavering stick, to harness natural energy without the use of the sacred oil. Sometimes, Fukasaku allows an excited Kichi to take the stick so that he may train them both—one in harnessing the natural energy and the other in identifying natural energy currents. Kichi bears a little too much zeal in smacking Naruto over the head with the wooden stick. Naruto thinks he misreads the currents on purpose.

Without the sacred oil, it takes him much longer to fall into a deep form of meditation, and even longer to unsee. He is often hungry enough at the end of his training to eat the Myobokusan meals without gagging, to Tatsu’s delight. The days begin to slow, until finally, he is able to follow Kurama’s natural energy over all of Myobokusan, watching the swirling energies of Kichi and Tatsu bounce with glee.

“We don’t want you to leave,” Tatsu says on the morning of their departure, as Naruto is heaving his pack onto his shoulders.

Kichi, who is sitting on Naruto’s head, pats his cheeks twice before hopping down. “Bring my little brother snacks next time you visit, ne?”

“Sure thing, sure thing!” Naruto says.

Minato places a hand on his shoulder as they wait for Jiraiya to bid Bunta farewell. “Your mother and I are proud of you.”

* * *

_Bang!_

Naruto jumps. The table breaks cleanly in two across the middle. Porcelain teacups, somehow unbroken in their fall, roll in half-moon loops on the tatami, leaking green rivers. Tobirama raises his hand as if to strike again, only to realize there is nothing more to bear his rage.

“An alliance?” he says. “With the _Uchiha?_ We will do no such thing.”

“It’s the only way,” Jiraiya says.

“You’ve met Uzumaki Nagato,” Hashirama says to Tobirama. “In your travels. You mentioned they would be useful allies—”

“I meant an alliance with the Akatsuki, not the Uchiha.”

“We have to do this to end the war,” says Jiraiya. “Nagato is a trusted student of mine. We can trust this plan.”

“I have nothing against ending the war,” says Tobirama. “But the Shimura do not disturb Senju. I do not see reason to risk our men in a battle that is not ours to fight. Why not let the Shimura do the work for us? Wipe out the Uchiha and leave us to our lives?”

Naruto feels anger heat his insides. “I will not stand aside and let another clan be hunted and harvested for their bloodline.”

“It is this very clan—this very _bloodline_ —that has cost the Senju hundreds of lives and kept us from winning the war the moment it began.”

“As much as I would like to leave the Uchiha to their own problems,” Shikamaru, Naruto’s newly appointed Advisor-in-Training, says. “We can’t just let a clan like that wither away. Nagato does have a point—we need to show loyalty to prove ourselves, if you will. For the Uchiha to trust us. This is the first step to peace.”

“Loyalty? _Trust?_ ” Tobirama turns to his brother. “The first time we attempted peace negotiations, we lost Itama and Kawarama. How many Senju do you mean to kill off before you realize the Uchiha can never be trusted? Were your own brothers not enough? You mean to take the life of your grandson as well?”

“Tobirama!” Hashirama rises from his seat. “You overstep. You forget what has made Madara more susceptible to Uchiha Danzo’s promises in the first place.”

“I have forgotten nothing, anija. You sent me away for six years and I have learned, yes. But I have been here another fourteen and the war is still being waged. Nothing has changed.”

“Nothing will ever change if we do not change first.” Hashirama turns to Naruto, who is wide-eyed, having never seen his great-uncle snap like this. “Commander-in-Training, what are your thoughts on next steps?”

Naruto avoids Tobirama’s gaze. His great-uncle’s anger makes the hair on his arms stand on end. “I believe we should proceed, albeit with caution. We should wait for further reports from the Akatsuki on Madara’s stance. It’s been half a moon since we left. Reports should come in soon. In the meantime, I believe we can form alliances with Sunagakure. They are open to new trading agreements, and I’m familiar with their Kazekage.”

“Trade with the Southern Sands?” Hashirama nods. “Good suggestion. I will begin arrangements. The situation with the Uchiha will wait until the Akatsuki report. You are all dismissed.”

Naruto rises, bows, and turns to leave.

“Wait, Naruto,” Hashirama says. He waits until the others have left, sliding the door shut with a thud. “Hyuuga Neji will return at dawn tomorrow from clan duties and set out with your team again in three days’ time. I would like you to train and go with them to the frontlines. If all goes well, I will name you Head General upon your return. I would do so now, but a Head General should have some recent battle experience after spending years away.”

* * *

Sweat beads at his temple as he crouches behind a measly bush, waiting. The humidity of early spring swirls in his lungs with every breath. It will rain tonight. He can feel it, taste the thickness of the air upon his tongue.

“You sure it’s today?” Tenten says from his side, cheeks flushed from the oppressive air. The strands of hair that escaped her buns are plastered against her neck and forehead.

“Heard from Hashirama-ojisama himself,” Naruto says. He wipes at the moisture on his upper lip, frowning when the sleeve of his yukata comes back a shade darker. “Clan duties?”

“Oh, yeah, that was it,” Tenten says. “Protection for the main branch family.”

“Protection? Can’t they protect themselves?”

“It’s a Hyuuga thing. Neji doesn’t really like talking about it—don’t tell him I told you.”

“Don’t worry.”

Kiba, leaning on the tree to his right, is half-asleep when the captain walks through the front gates with his pack strapped to his back. He’s taller than Naruto remembers, face and hands battle-worn from years of fighting while he had traveled with Jiraiya.

“Neji-taichou!” Naruto jumps out from his hiding spot, flailing in the air before he lands on his captain’s side, arms and legs wrapped around him.

“What the—Naruto?” Neji’s eyes are wide with surprise before they curve into crescents. “Naruto!”

“Did you miss me? Huh? Miss me?” He laughs as Tenten and Kiba both hop out to greet their returning captain.

“I can’t… breathe!” He laughs when Naruto quickly lets him go and drops to the ground. “You got taller.”

“So have you,” Naruto says, tapping him on the arm. “Damn, it’s good to see you again.”

“Alright, alright.” Kiba claps. He nods at Neji. “Why don’t you get cleaned up, and we all go out for some ramen, ne?”

Naruto throws his fist in the air and almost dies when it accidentally meets Kiba’s face. 

* * *

The river is full and swollen from the night’s rain, brushing against tilting flowers, happy in its gurgling. In the clearing, the sketches of tree-Naruto and tree-Sasuke are faded to grey. Tree-Naruto is missing a whisker, and tree-Sasuke, a few fingers. The bark of the trees is lined with the markings of old shuriken.

Naruto stands against a tree across from them, watching the morning sun break across the leaves. He wants to repaint them, but he can’t remember how Sasuke made the mixture. Mist sinks into his yukata. He shivers. Training will begin soon. He sets two wrapped onigiri by tree-Sasuke and makes his way back to the Senju compound.

His shoulder aches. It had been rough squeezing out of that hole in the wall.

* * *

“You’re rusty, Naruto.”

“I’m not.” He winces as he lifts his head off the dirt of the training grounds. Groaning with effort, he pulls himself up and faces Tenten again, sheathed katana raised between them. “You’re just faster.”

She takes this compliment with grace, coming at him for the fourth time that morning, making for his left shoulder with her covered blade before ducking at the last second—just as he is moving to block—her foot meeting his side. He flies to the ground with a grunt. Sand sticks to the damp skin of his face. He pushes himself up and widens his stance.

“Again.”

The thrill of battle, thin and battered with rust, surges through him renewed. This time, he catches the way her shoulder dips in one direction right before she dives. In two swift movements, he kicks her blade from her grip and holds his own against her neck.

She smiles, putting her hands up and brushing away the hairs that had slipped from her buns.

“Good, Naruto,” Neji says. “I was getting worried there. Let’s see how you fare against two. Kiba, you’re in.”

Kiba hops over, joining Tenten. His teeth are sharp as he leers playfully at Naruto. “Have at us, O Future Commander.”

Naruto does.

Training lasts until the sun falls from the edges of blue sky and firelight paints the compound in a flickering orange. Naruto, after hours of failure, finally manages to defeat his teammates in a three on one fight. Neji calls an end to the training at last.

“You coming to dinner?” Neji asks. He stands at the edge of the grounds, Kiba and Tenten already walking ahead. It is beginning to rain.

Naruto shakes his head. “There’s something I want to do. You guys go ahead without me.”

“You did well today. We missed having you around,” Neji says. He bows and runs off to join the rest of his team.

The rain is light against his cheeks, sinking into his hair and mingling with sweat. He sits cross-legged on the empty training grounds, his hands pressed together, eyes closed. It takes a few moments, but he begins to feel Kurama’s familiar warmth. He stretches outwards, over the walls of the Senju compound, into the forest….

And there he is. Sasuke. A turbulent ball of white and red, pulsing and strong. Further back, a more delicate one—Itachi.

Geography in the world of natural energy has always been difficult for him to grasp. Some things are further apart. Others, closer together. The Uchiha compound is larger than he had imagined.

“Sasuke seems well,” he says to Kurama. He feels the fox spirit, blind to the whereabouts of Uchiha, rumble in satisfaction.

When his mother calls him, he opens his eyes to see her standing at the edge of the training grounds, holding a black wagasa over her head. The rain bounces off the waxen surface of the oiled paper, slipping off to the dirt below. He runs to join her.

* * *

In Sunagakure, the ramen burns his tongue with spice, its broth colored and bright as fresh blood. The pork is sparse and dry, the noodles thick. It left him on the toilet, ass burning.

In Amegakure, the ramen is strong with salt, the broth spinning with miso. The chicken is thick, the noodles are thin. Even after three bowls and four cups of water, it never left him satiated.

In Myobokusan, the ramen moved with the bodies of earthworms, its broth bright green. He hadn’t eaten much of that.

At home, his mother’s ramen is the warmth of sunlight after a day of rain. He brings the bowl to his face, inhaling the sweet fumes of fatty pork sitting in a white broth. His parents watch him slurp the noodles into his mouth, soup splattering, the golden yolk of the egg dribbling down his chin.

* * *

The fire crackles and spits out a spray of embers. Kiba rubs his hands together and raises his palms to the warmth of the flames. He heaves a satisfied sigh and casts a sideways glance at Lee.

“So, Sakura, huh?” He snickers when Lee splutters, flipping his head around to make sure no one other than his team had heard. They are, after all, in the Hyuuga House of the Senju Compound, and Sakura tended to visit Hinata often. Kiba shrugs at him. “She’s pretty.”

Everyone laughs. Lee’s wide-eyed ogling had not gone unnoticed. He nods, giving up. His eyes go soft. “And crazy smart. Youngest medic we have and she fixed me up in no time.”

“You should tell her how you feel,” Kiba says. “Before she heads out with us tomorrow.” He waves a handkerchief and pretends to weep. “Nothing as tragic as young love in the face of war!”

Lee looks nervous. “Um, you mean tonight? That soon? I probably can’t do tonight….”

Kiba laughs. “Hm, I think Hinata’s pretty, too.” At Neji’s disgruntled huff, he elbows him. “Prettier than you.”

Tenten giggles and shares a glance with Neji. He cuffs Kiba in the head. She turns and nudges Naruto in the shoulder. “What about you? Anyone special?”

Naruto reddens.

“Anyone from your many, many travels?” Lee waggles his eyebrows. Naruto thinks they look like caterpillars. “Or maybe a Senju girl?”

Naruto shakes his head and mumbles, “Not really my type.”

Kiba howls and fixes him a teasing look. “Then, O Future Commander, do share with us low-lives. Who _is_ your type?”

“Uh, that’s, uh,” Naruto stutters. “None of your business.”

Kiba is already groaning in mock boredom. “ _Oi_ ,” he grunts. “Really. No one caught your eye? No one in all the lands you’ve been through? All the… _bathhouses_?”

Naruto glares at him. “Fine, fine. I guess I like dark hair. Dark eyes.” His cheeks burn. “And—and a nice chin?”

“A nice _chin_?” Kiba guffaws. Naruto stares at the fire. There is something in the delicate slope of Sasuke’s chin, the way it sits over his collarbones and the line of his chest, that makes Naruto’s head spin. He couldn’t see anything wrong with that. Kiba lewdly grabs his own chest. “Na, na—what about a _nice rack_?”

Sasuke is relatively flat in that compartment. “Eh, not really.”

No one hears his answer because Tenten, fuming by now, leaps up and punches Kiba in the face. “You fucking pervert!”

Kiba wails, trying and failing to duck from Tenten’s assault. “I told you we shouldn’t have invited a girl!”

Tenten attempts to break his nose.

* * *

Neji has no sooner raised his hand—in a signal for a unit of five—before a kunai lodges itself in the tree by Naruto’s head. He ducks, feeling blood seep down his cheek from the cut.

“They found us!” Kiba hisses, squatting closer to the ground. Behind him, Tenten fills the gaps between her fingers with shuriken.

The veins around Neji’s light eyes protrude from his face in concentration as he leaps into battle, katana raised.

The first chime of two meeting blades marks the beginning of the battle. Neji grunts with the effort. His unit fall in naturally, engaging the Uchiha. The clearing erupts with sound.

Naruto snarls, the adrenaline beating through him like drums of fire, bringing his katana down on his opponent. The man is bulky, lacking the usual grace and lithe of an Uchiha. Strong, but slow. He smiles as he fights, his eyes a brilliant red. Behind him, a lankier Uchiha joins him. Naruto spins to deflect his attack.

The spirit of Kurama envelops him. The excitement of sparring fills his core. He is much faster than the bulky Uchiha, but the Uchiha makes up for his poor speed in brute strength and his partnership with the lanky one. He slashes for Naruto, his blade breaking through metal armor and cutting skin. Naruto feels Kurama’s energy begin to heal him. He falls into defense, ducking and dodging a quick onslaught from the lanky Uchiha. There must be an opening to this thin opponent, any opening, but the bulky Uchiha comes at him from the side. The lanky Uchiha’s foot meets a tree root—

_Now!_

Naruto kicks him in the gut and turns to meet the bulky Uchiha. He hears the lanky one grunt and fall. It should give him some time.

He grits his teeth as he counters a heavy strike and holds it, his arms trembling with effort. He spins from the hold and delivers a blow that cuts the Uchiha across the face. The man yells, raising his blade, blinded by blood. Naruto dives and sinks his katana into his throat. The body slides off his blade and falls with a dull thud. Rapid footsteps descend upon him.

He spins, running his katana through the air. It meets skin, cartilage. The lanky Uchiha gurgles as he holds his open throat and sinks to the ground. He hears a crack—

“—fuck!”

Naruto turns at Kiba’s voice, searching wildly, taking in the other two fallen Uchiha before finding Kiba. He is on the ground, facing Naruto, cradling his arm, his opponent standing over him. Naruto runs for him.

“Tenten, get Kiba!” Neji makes it first, raising his blade. He strikes the Uchiha in the side.

“Urgh—”

Naruto tears his eyes from Kiba. His breath stops. The thudding in his ears is silenced.

_Kurama, help us._

Sasuke is leaning on the tree he fell against, holding an arm across his middle, his lips skinned back against his teeth. His shoulders heave.

_Please._

Sasuke raises his katana at Neji, the saya swaying from the cord fastened to his hip, an orange handkerchief tied around the cord. His eyes are bright as the blood seeping through his fingers. They flicker to Naruto, widening in surprise. Neji advances on him.

_We need you. Kurama!_

“No!” Naruto leaps between them. He throws a hand over Sasuke's abdomen and calls upon Kurama’s healing. Neji halts in his steps.

Sasuke’s lips form the shape of his name, the shallowest of breaths upon his tongue. “Naruto—”

There is light, light enough to fill all the shadows of the forest with blinding white. Neji winces, closing his eyes. Naruto, glowing as though enveloped by the sun itself, turns Sasuke from him. He shoves him towards the trees.

“Run.”

Sasuke looks him in the eye, unfazed by the bright spirit he is emitting. “I will not leave my unit.”

Panic fills him again.

Behind him, he hears Neji yelling. “Naruto, _what the fuck do you think you’re doing_?”

He pushes Sasuke away, desperate. “Sasuke, they’ll kill you. Go!”

Sasuke doesn’t move. “Naruto—”

He shoves him again, hard enough Sasuke almost stumbles. “If not for yourself, do it for me. Sasuke, please. _Go_.”

Something clicks in Sasuke’s eyes. In one breath, he is holding Naruto’s hand, squeezing. In the next, he is gone and all that is left is his blood upon Naruto’s fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read. As always, any feedback will be much appreciated.


	7. Part 6: The Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Okay, so I did some re-reading and realized that there was a major inconsistency in the last chapter. It has now been fixed. For those who have read the previous chapter before this update, Tobirama actually does know Uzumaki Nagato, since he came across him and the Akatsuki in his travels (mentioned in Ch. 1). I've just edited the dialogue during the meeting in the previous chapter to account for that. So yes, he does know Nagato, but it's been a very long time since then and he is unsure of the Akatsuki's suggestions when it comes to peace negotiations with Uchiha. 
> 
> Anyways, the rating has gone up! Nothing explicit just yet, but we do get some nice interactions between Naruto and Sasuke (yay). I had to let this chapter sit for a few days, in order for me to ensure that I was happy with how I wrote it. I always cringe with how I write the physical stuff lol. Again, this story is NaruSasuNaru, so you'll be getting both eventually. Sit tight. 
> 
> As always, comments are welcome! If you liked this chapter, lemme know! And if you didn't, constructive criticism is also welcome! Thanks for reading (: (I also do respond to all my comments, so hopefully you guys have been receiving those as well!)

Naruto is on his knees before his Commander, the weight of his armor pressing him into the tatami of the Commandant Room. He fixes his gaze upon the floor.

Hashirama has his lips pinched together in a tight frown, the creases between his eyebrows pronounced against his aging skin. At his side, Tobirama leans against the wall with his arms crossed, still dressed in full armor.

“Uzumaki Naruto of Senju.” Hashirama’s voice is sharp. Naruto winces at the formality.

He closes his eyes, swallows. “Yes, Commander.”

“It has come to my knowledge that you compromised a scouting assignment on the frontlines.”

_“Naruto, what the fuck did you just do?” Neji grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him around. Kurama’s light has faded. “I had him!”_

_“I know.”_

_The faint pulsing of Neji’s white irises reminds him of the natural energies of humans. He suddenly recalls how Sasuke’s spinning energy had been further away from Itachi’s own. The Uchiha compound hadn’t been as large as he once thought. Sasuke had been at the frontlines, away from his brother. He should have known._

_Neji shakes his head. “I don’t think you do—that was the second Uchiha heir. We could have taken—”_

_“I know who he is.”_

“You have released a high-ranking member of the Uchiha clan, a potentially useful prisoner,” Hashirama continues. “I am aware that due to your extensive travels and my failure to fully inform you of the happenings that occurred in your absence, you may not have been aware of his position during your encounter. This Uchiha Sasuke, second heir to Uchiha, has only recently joined the ranks in the past few years. We had originally presumed him to be dead, but he very much alive and powerful.”

_Neji’s eyes are wide in disbelief. The veins in his cheeks settle back into his skin. “You knew? Then why… ?”_

_“He’s in the Akatsuki,” Naruto says. “He’s my friend.”_

_“An Uchiha heir? In Akatsuki?”_

_“Well, it would’ve helped if you’d clarified that earlier,” Kiba grumbles. He staggers across the clearing to grab his katana with his good arm and jam the blade back into its saya. “Your so-called friend nearly took off my arm.”_

“Forgive me,” Naruto says. “I have failed to disclose the full details on the Akatsuki. Uchiha Sasuke and his brother, Itachi, are both members of the organization. Jiraiya and I met them during our meetings.”

“I’m sorry,” Tobirama begins. He unfolds his arms and moves until he is standing over Naruto, his armor clanking against itself. “Did you just say that both Uchiha heirs are in the Akatsuki? And that you failed to make us aware of this?”

Hashirama turns to his brother, as if to stop him. “Tobirama.”

“I—” Naruto breathes.

“Are there any other Uchiha in the Akatsuki?”

“Uchiha Shisui and, I believe, Hatake Kakashi of Uchiha.”

“Uchiha Shisui,” Tobirama repeats. “I thought he was—what is it with this family? All their dead are coming back to life. And you mentioned Hatake Kakashi, the Copy-Cat Warrior?”

“Yes.”

“I cannot even count the number of Senju he has killed.” Tobirama’s breath shakes as he exhales. “ _Four Uchiha_. Three high-ranking. Two presumed dead. And two of which are Madara’s grandchildren. We simply cannot trust them. How do we know the Akatsuki’s agenda isn’t skewed in favor of the Uchiha?”

“Their intention is to make peace, to end the war.”

“You cannot know—”

“I know what happened on the night of my birth,” Naruto bursts. He raises his eyes from the tatami. “I know you believe they want revenge for it. I also know that the Uchiha in the Akatsuki do not intend to take revenge for something done in the very name of revenge.”

Tobirama is silent for a long time. His gaze is fixed upon Naruto’s own, his rosy eyes narrowed.

“You may rise,” Hashirama says. “How can you be sure?”

Naruto brings himself to his feet, shaking out his legs. He takes a breath, bites his lip.

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I, uh, know Sasuke very well.”

His great-uncle looks unimpressed. “From your time with the Akatsuki?”

“Not exactly,” Naruto says. He hesitates, but cannot see another way to get through to his grandfather and great-uncle. “When I was young, I used to sneak out. Of the compound, that is. I started doing it a bit after my sixth birthday. There’s a river just south of here, in the forest.”

Tobirama narrows his eyes. “The entry is guarded. You wouldn’t have been able to get past the guard.”

“I didn’t have to,” Naruto says. “There’s a hole in the wall. Near the back of the Infirmary, covered by shrubs.”

Tobirama seems to be at a loss for words. Hashirama shakes his head, trying to cover his amusement. They watch Naruto as he tells them of his friendship with Sasuke. He tells them almost everything, up until the point he leaves for his travels with Jiraiya.

“You knowingly continued a friendship with an Uchiha, even after you discovered his family name?” Tobirama says when he has finished, tapping at the armor plate over his forearm.

“I realized it didn’t change who he was,” Naruto says again.

Tobirama glances at his brother. Somehow, the anger in him has gone. He closes his eyes. “No one outside this room will know of this,” he says. “I will not have you deemed a traitor.”

Hashirama is watching him with an odd look on his face. “And when you left to travel, he must have gone to the Uchiha. Because the loneliness would have been impossible to bear.”

Naruto stares. “Well, Itachi came to get him, but yes. How did you…?”

Hashirama smiles, his eyes softening. “I had a friendship like your own, though it did not run as deep, I am afraid. Once we discovered one another’s family name, the war took precedence.”

“Did you ever see him again?”

“No,” Hashirama says. “I consider us fortunate for it.”

Tobirama, he notices, is quiet, the sharpness in his eyes gone in that moment. Naruto feels he is about to split with his sudden curiosity.

“Who was it?”

He watches his grandfather sigh, the lines of his face deep with age and exhaustion.

“Why, Uchiha Madara, of course.”

* * *

Neji is waiting for him when he steps out of the Commandant Room. His hair sits long and loose over his back, his limbs striped in white gauze beneath a grey yukata. Naruto dips his head as he approaches, a movement that Neji reciprocates.

“You know, I could still take care of that for you.” Naruto gestures at the bandages on his arms.

Neji shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to become reliant. Anyways, the pain is good for me. Reminds me that life is short-lived.”

Naruto nods.

“How did it go?” Neji asks. His dark brows come together.

“Better than I thought,” he says. “I’d even dare say it went quite well.”

“That’s good.” Neji’s shoulders lower from their tense position. “I want you to understand that I truly did not want to report the incident.”

“Taichou, it’s fine,” Naruto says, offering him a smile. “I compromised a mission. You did what you had to do.”

Neji seems to accept this. He looks at Naruto as though he is trying to find something, his white eyes taking in the features of his face. “This Uchiha Sasuke, he must mean a lot to you.”

Naruto hesitates.

“I have known you for many years,” Neji says at Naruto’s silence. “I’ve seen you fight your first Uchiha, take your first life, have your first battlefield nightmare. But even so, I have never seen you that afraid.”

“He’s just a friend, from Akatsuki,” Naruto says. Sasuke, to his friends and family, will always be Uchiha before all else. “Killing him would have compromised any potential peace relations.”

“It’s a good thing,” Neji continues. “The need to protect someone. It makes you strong.”

Naruto bites his tongue. “Hashirama-ojisama made no mention of Head General,” he says. “I’ll have to wait a little longer.”

Neji catches on, drops the subject. “I’m sorry.”

“How’s Kiba?” he asks. Neji leads him to the Infirmary. As they walk over, Naruto pretends to look disappointed over the Head General appointment, but in truth, he would give up all his titles in exchange for Sasuke’s life.

* * *

“Yo.” Kiba smiles upon seeing Naruto and Neji enter the Infirmary. He raises two fingers to his brow and flicks them in salute. Tenten, who is standing at Kiba’s bedside, greets them with a quick wave. She, like Neji, has a few bandages adorning her arms and legs. Lee stands at the foot of Kiba’s raised futon, bearing no injuries, his cheeks bright with heat.

“Naruto-san!” Lee bows in greeting. “How was the meeting?”

“As all meetings are,” Naruto says as he makes his way over. He pats Kiba on the back. “How’s the arm doing, dog-breath?”

“Good as new, all thanks to you,” Kiba says. He stretches it out. “Just a bit sore, though.”

“I told you to keep it still, Kiba!” Sakura’s voice calls from the other end of the room.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Naruto turns to see her weaving through the line of clean futons, a tin cup in her hand. He smiles in greeting. “Hey, Sakura-chan.”

“Hey, yourself,” she says, offering him a quick smile before turning back to Kiba, her green eyes clear and sharp as new hunting blades. “You trying to tear the muscles around the fracture?”

“Exactly!” says Lee.

Kiba groans, throwing his head back. “But Naruto fixed me up already—”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Sakura says, dipping her fingers into the green ointment and spreading it over Kiba’s arm. She looks at Naruto. “I appreciate it, I really do—it’s great that his bones are completely healed and all—but there’s so much that skips the natural process and dives into the unknown. It leaves me guessing at where to finish it up, y’know?”

“Yes, of course, of course, sorry.” Naruto mocks a deep bow. She flicks his head with two green fingers. “Ow—Sakura-chan!”

“Poor Karin,” Sakura sighs. She turns back to Kiba, pressing her fingers into the lines of his forearm. He grunts. “I hated asking her to take my place. She never really liked being on the frontlines. Oi, Kiba—relax.”

“She’ll be fine,” Tenten says. “I hear one of the warriors out there caught her eye.”

“Really?” Sakura’s eyes widen in surprise. “Who?”

Tenten shakes her head. “She wouldn’t say.”

Kiba sighs in relief when Sakura has finished. He looks at Naruto, arching a brow. “Your friend’s good,” he admits.

“The Uchiha heir, huh,” Sakura says, wiping her hands on a clean cloth. “What was it like, fighting him?”

Naruto opens his mouth to correct her, but Kiba is already puffing out his chest, launching into a hefty tale of swift lunges and last-second dodges against red-eyed Uchiha nobility. Lee watches in barely-concealed jealousy.

* * *

The note flaps between Jiraiya’s fingers like the frail wings of a butterfly. The old man waves it in the air, panting, his other hand resting against the shoji door he has just slid open to the Commandant Room. The room of Hashirama, Tobirama, Tsunade, Minato, Gai, Shikamaru, and Naruto ceases in conversation. They look at him with wide eyes.

“Where have you been?” Tsunade asks. “We’re supposed to allocate the new—”

“The—Akatsuki—report!” Jiraiya waves the note again, wheezing. “Sorry—ran—here!”

Naruto isn’t sure what he had been expecting when it came to the Akatsuki report. Definitely something of more substance than a thin and crinkled paper the size of his palm. Jiraiya stumbles across the room, his face glistening with sweat, his white mane explosive. Minato offers him a cup of tea. Jiraiya upends it into his mouth. Hashirama looks amused. When he has gathered himself somewhat, Jiraiya smooths out the note in his grasp and speaks.

“They have been able to confirm that the Shimura are taking the eyes of recently passed Uchiha,” he says. “We don’t yet know what they are doing with them, but it should be safe to assume that these eyes are being transplanted into Shimura clan members. It also seems that Uchiha Sasuke was caught red-handed in the—um—the evidence-gathering process.”

Naruto feels his stomach constrict.

“Danzo, to our knowledge, is unaware of the Akatsuki’s existence,” Jiraiya continues. “However, he has removed potential threats from his presence. Madara has fallen ill, but remains convinced Danzo is leading the clan in the right direction. With the increased security, it will be harder to collect intel on the Uchiha end from now on.”

Naruto sneaks a glance at Hashirama. His grandfather’s face is solemn as Shikamaru speaks up. “For a clan as uptight as the Uchiha, I’m surprised they are allowing Danzo to create this—alliance, let’s call it—with the Shimura. Mingling threatens blood purity, which then threatens the Sharingan bloodline.”

Hashirama shakes his head. “Madara believes that Danzo wants to push all Uchiha warriors to the war effort. Most of them would be concentrated at the frontlines.”

“He’s redirecting Uchiha attention away from what goes on within their compound,” says Naruto. “By moving them to the frontlines.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So,” Minato says. “Madara is a barrier we will need to overcome. He likely won’t consent to peace negotiations if he believes Danzo’s strategy will win them the war.”

“Madara will never consent,” Hashirama says. “He has always loved his younger brother. Danzo replaces the one he has lost, and he will do anything for him.”

“So we must turn to the heirs,” Tobirama says. Naruto looks at him, surprised. “We must rely on what they can do.”

Jiraiya waves the note in the air once more. “Itachi is suggesting a coup,” he says. “To sidestep Madara. He’s working on gathering Uchiha who doubt Danzo’s legitimacy, but it’s going to be a long process. Many Uchiha want to win the war—and they think they’re close. Not many will choose negotiation over victory. If he approaches the wrong person, there’s no doubt Danzo will hear of it.”

“On our end, we’ll need to focus our warriors to the frontlines in order to keep up with Uchiha’s numbers,” Tobirama says, his arms folded over his chest. He looks to the sprawling scrolls on the table in front of him, full of scribbled names. “Suggestions, Commander-in-Training?”

“The Suna alliance means we can refocus more of our warriors to battle,” says Naruto. He reaches over and points to the names on the list. “We only need one hunting and gathering unit—the young ones can take care of that. The training units will take over supply delivery and fill in for half of sentry duty. All free warriors will move to the frontlines.”

Tobirama nods. “A sound plan. We’ll be left with green warriors in supply and sentry, but that will have to do.”

“Two more things,” Naruto says. “We’ll need a small team for liaising with the Uchiha and Akatsuki. I will lead it.”

Hashirama nods.

“I’ll also need two days,” Naruto says. “And that report. There’s something I need to attend to.”

* * *

He sets off before the coming of dawn, the sun only breaking across the sky when he is already deep in the darker center of the forest. The trees are wider here, trunks thick with sap and water, branches intertwined. The sunlight does not seep through the twisted branches and leaves in this part of the forest, leaving him shrouded in shadow. The cool air sinks into the cotton of his yukata. The forest floor is uneven with overlapping roots. Kurama guides him.

**_Take the path on the right. The moss-covered tree marks its beginning._ **

“All the trees are covered in moss,” Naruto grumbles. He tightens the silk scarf he has tied over his head. “And I don’t see any paths—oof!”

He trips over another root, stumbling.

 ** _For a species that relies so heavily on sight, you humans are blind as ever. It’s a wonder you have survived thus far,_** Kurama says. **_Here, this is the tree. Turn right._**

Naruto turns, straining his ears. “How deep in are we? I can’t even hear the sounds of the frontlines.”

 ** _Deep enough,_** Kurama says. **_Warriors do not fight here._**

Eventually, the trees and roots grow less dense, and he is able to navigate on his own. The slivers of sunlight peeking through the canopy begin to wane. He settles down on a patch of dirt, his back against a tree, his legs crossed, his eyes closed.

It takes another collection of breaths and a rumble from Kurama before he sees a familiar spinning of red and white, not too far from where he is.

_Found you._

**_May I remind you, Senju no gaki, this is one of the least intelligent things you have done in your life._ **

“Whatever,” Naruto says. He opens his eyes and pats his stomach. “You can go back to sleep, old fox.”

**_Be careful._ **

“Always am.”

He hears them before he sees it.

Jiraiya had been right. The Uchiha camp is bustling with warriors, likely stationed here by Danzo in attempt to remove them from the compound. All dark of hair, light of skin, dressed in deep blue armor. He checks that his hair is tucked underneath the black scarf.

He comes at the camp from its side, but even so, he can see that it is staggeringly similar to that of the Senju. Tents fill the clearing in a circular formation. The ones in the center are larger than the rest, and must be for the Commander, Head Generals, and possibly, heirs. With the setting sun, the bustling grows louder as warriors return from the day’s missions. Injured warriors limp, supported, alongside their friends, and those who can no longer walk are carried on stretchers to what must be a row of medic tents. A few of the bodies on stretchers, Naruto notices, are covered completely by white cloth. The dead.

His gaze shifts to the perimeter of the camp, counting six guards from where he is crouched in the shadow of the trees. Two guards are stationed to each interval of the perimeter, strolling the distance along their area, reaching marked endpoints, and turning around to repeat. Ah. There is a reason the Senju no longer implement this sentry practice. In the brief moment in which the warrior, right after walking past his partner sentry, is blind to the distance between them. Naruto could slip through them and flit his way behind the tents to the center. There, he’d figure out which one belonged to Sasuke. Drawing an onigiri and a boiled egg from his pack, Naruto settles against a tree root and waits for night to fall.

The Uchiha grow quiet along with the fading sky, the camp dark save for a few candlelit tents in the center. There are no campfires. There is no sign of Sasuke. Naruto remains alert. He does not risk meditation.

When the last blush of the sun is washed into night, there is a change in sentry duty. The new guards begin their watch. Naruto takes in their walking patterns as he waits for the old sentry unit to settle into their tents. The guards stroll on with an air of men who have never had to fight an intruder. After all, it has been two decades since the last attack.

The half moon catches on the hair of the new guard closest to him. It shines in a shock of silver, standing high and angled upon the warrior’s head. Naruto squints, makes out a masked face, a single Sharingan. 

The famous Hatake Kakashi of Uchiha. A man that Itachi trusts. Kakashi and his partner approach one another, steps even and smooth. Naruto moves in.

They pass each other.

_Now!_

Up close, Kakashi is taller than Naruto had expected. Broad in the shoulders and quick in movement. Swift, especially, in the way he turns his head, black and red eyes locking on him.

Naruto goes cold.

Kakashi’s hand flies to the katana at his hip. The line of his jaw twitches underneath his mask in a movement Naruto interprets as the opening of his mouth. Naruto pulls the scarf from his head.

Kakashi is silent.

The two-colored gaze flicks behind Naruto—to his retreating partner—before coming back to him. His stare is unsettling, half-lidded and bored, as though he could kill him with no more effort than swatting a fly. The look of a seasoned warrior. A fame well-earned.

Naruto prays that even in the moonlight, his youth and coloring are unmistakable. Gold of hair, blue of eye, scarred of cheek.

 _Sasuke_ , he mouths.

For a moment, he thinks Kakashi looks amused. Then, the man gives him the smallest of nods and resumes his post. Naruto dives into the shadow of the nearest tent, tying the scarf around his head once again. He turns back to Kakashi, perhaps for some kind of indication of Sasuke’s whereabouts, but the man is already hidden in the trees around the perimeter.

Flitting between the tents is easy, with the majority of the camp in slumber. When he makes it to the center of the camp, two of the seven larger tents still flicker with the soft glow of candlelight. He can hear the light murmuring of conversation. He edges his way to the bright tent closest to him and is just about to hold his ear to the tent wall when a sudden rustling sounds over his shoulder. He flattens himself to the ground.

A man exits one of the tents without candlelight. He is dressed in a black kimono, an Uchiha fan embroidered into each breast, each sleeve, and the center of his back. He approaches the candlelit tent that Naruto is hiding next to and raises the opening flap to let himself in. For a breath, the light illuminates the man and Naruto makes out cropped black hair and deep scarring over the entire right half of his face. He wears a cloth patch over his left eye.

“How is he?” says a woman’s voice, when the flap of the tent has returned to its place.

“Fine,” says the man. “I’ve placed him under Kakashi. It’ll be easier than giving him his own team—”

“He can’t have taken that well.”

“He didn’t. More stubborn than his brother. But I told him it would give him more freedom to work with Akatsuki, and he agreed. And on that, he says Itachi’s sent out the report.”

“Do you…” There is a brief pause before the woman speaks again. She lowers her voice. Even with his head pressed to the tent, Naruto strains to listen. “Do you think Itachi is going about this the right way? I mean, a coup?”

“I don’t know,” the man sighs. “I want to. It’s the only way.”

“It’ll be difficult,” the woman says. “I’m not sure how many we can get on our—”

Naruto stops listening. He stares at the dark tent the man had just left. That has to be it. Naruto pulls himself from the ground and, after a glance around the empty camp, slips his way over to the tent and steps inside.

There is a moment of quiet, a moment in which he blinks his eyes open and shut against the darkness, before something slams into his head.

* * *

He falls onto his knees, gasping. His vision throbs between blistering white and black. A hundred scenarios fly through his head. He could try to fight the man in this tent, try to kill him and slip away. No—blind in the dark, he is helpless. He could draw him out of the tent, fight him under the light of the moon. But it would wake the entire camp. Even with Kurama’s protection, he would never win against the entirety of Uchiha military. He hears a rustle above him, imagines the Uchiha raising his arms to hit him again. He dives to the side, reaching for his kunai and smacking his head against solid wood. The scarf falls to his neck.

_If only I could see._

Deep in his gut, Kurama stirs.

“Who are—Naruto?”

Naruto nearly crumples in relief at the sound of Sasuke’s voice.

“Hi,” he offers. He drops the kunai, wills his heartbeat to slow.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Oi, Sasuke-teme, hostile much? You nearly took off my head with that hit.”

There is shuffling as Sasuke moves to kneel by Naruto. His head throbs. When his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, he can make out Sasuke’s activated Sharingan. He kicks off his jikatabi boots and shrugs off his pack, setting it next to the table he had hit his head against.

“What are you doing here?”

“Seeing you—the report said you’d gotten caught—”

“I was. Danzo sent me here for it—”

“And your wound, is it—”

“You healed it. Naruto, this is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Sasuke says, but he takes Naruto’s head between his hands and rubs out the part that he had struck. “How did you even get in?”

Naruto leans into his touch. “Well, I first set off before dawn. Kurama took me around the frontlines—all the way around—through this really dark and cold forest—” Sasuke shudders in a way that told Naruto he knows exactly what that part of the forest is like. “Yeah, me too. Then, you see, your sentry practices are slightly outdated. Easy to slip through. And it’s dark—”

“We can see in the dark. Not perfectly, but well enough. With Sharingan.”

“Ah. Shit.”

Sasuke snorts.

It explains everything, almost—Sasuke easily navigating the halls of the Akatsuki hideout, Kakashi catching him, Sasuke nearly taking off his head a moment ago. All carried out under the unrelenting blanket of darkness.

“You did all that—to see me?”

“Yes.”

A pause. A spin of black pinwheels in red. A smirk. Naruto reaches up and holds Sasuke’s head in his hands. “Teme, I can feel your head growing. Remember what I said—if you get stuck between two trees, I’m not coming to pull you out.”

Sasuke laughs, his eyes squinting in mirth, batting his hands away. The sound is light, airy, and Naruto relishes it. He tilts his head, then winces at the dull pain thrumming down his neck. Sasuke stills, reaching for him again and Naruto lets him, deciding to forego telling him that Kurama should have his head healed in another moment or two.

“You’re on guard in your own tent, in your own camp,” he says, pressing his forehead to the open neck of Sasuke’s yukata.

He can feel Sasuke swallow. “People usually announce themselves before they enter,” Sasuke says. “I thought Danzo sent someone to kill me.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Keep quiet,” Sasuke hisses. “He’s not stupid enough to do it here. Imagine how that would look. Second Uchiha heir found dead in his own tent, throat slashed, bloody—”

“Sasuke, I don’t want to imagine that.”

“Sorry,” Sasuke says. He pulls Naruto’s head up and looks him in the eye. “It’s not going to happen. Itachi has Obito watching over me. Hatake’s on sentry duty so he can keep an eye out. And I can take care of myself.”

“I can see that,” Naruto mumbles, rubbing at his head again. Most of the pain had gone. “I ran into Kakashi on guard duty.”

“What.”

“I banked on him recognizing my coloring and figuring it out.”

“And if he didn’t?”

“I brought the Akatsuki report to help him.”

Sasuke opens and closes his mouth. “You make me want to strangle you.”

“Thanks,” Naruto says. “Anyways, I saw a man leave your tent and heard him talk to someone about Itachi, so I just… had a gut feeling, and walked in.”

“A gut feeling,” Sasuke repeats. “Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?”

“Not really, no.”

“Usuratonkachi,” Sasuke breathes. He sits down beside Naruto’s laid out form, his eyes returned to black.

“You do realize I haven’t seen you in over half a moon?” Naruto eyes him. “And when I did, you nearly died.”

“I wasn’t—I was far from it.”

“We outnumbered you.”

Sasuke is silent.

Naruto presses on. “You lied.” 

“I didn’t.”

“Sasuke.” Naruto nudges his knee with a hand. “My unit could recognize you. My grandfather said you would have made for a valuable prisoner. That’s a namesake born on the battlefield.”

Sasuke sighs in defeat, fixing his gaze upon the grey wall of the tent. “Okay, fine, yes, I lied. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

Naruto finds Sasuke’s hand, grasps it and squeezes.

“I’ve never killed anyone,” Sasuke says. “I know it’s what you want to ask.”

“No,” Naruto says. His voice is strained. “If it comes down to it, you must. Sasuke, _you cannot die_.”

Sasuke squeezes his hand back. The silence lies over them, heavy and thick as clouds before rain. When Naruto speaks again, his voice is a whisper.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be. This war, these camps—when I saw you with Neji, I felt this—this all-encompassing fear, like it was going to swallow me raw.”

“I know. I saw,” Sasuke says. He presses Naruto’s knuckles to his lips, speaking into his skin. “But I can take care of myself.”

“Kiba can attest to it, with his broken arm and all,” Naruto says. “He was impressed.”

“I’m flattered.”

It dawns on Naruto how utterly bizarre the entire situation is—him, Senju heir and future Commander, lying in the tent of Uchiha nobility, sprawled on furs and silks traded for with Uchiha wealth, running his thumb over the callouses of Sasuke’s hand while hundreds of Uchiha snore in their slumber around him. The feeling builds up in his stomach and boils over in his throat and escapes as a strangled laugh. 

“I bet the whole camp is dreaming of my death,” Naruto says.

“The whole camp? How arrogant of you.” A small smile graces Sasuke’s lips. He dances his fingers over Naruto’s forehead and massages his temples. “More like ten, if you’re lucky.”

“Only ten?” Naruto raises a brow that Sasuke follows with his thumb. “It’s got to be fifty, at least.”

Sasuke is quiet, then. Naruto counts the number of his breaths. “Sometimes,” Sasuke says. “I feel as though we shouldn’t have met, like it was an accident.”

It is a feeling they both share, a feeling as though the weaver of Uchiha and Senju skipped a stitch all those years ago, and the strings have been unraveling ever since. Naruto cannot pull his eyes from him.

He has seen Sasuke in the lights and shadows of candle fires and stone tunnels, in the grasps of unabashed laughter and indignant anger. He has seen his fingernails caked in mud, his hair flattened in sweat, his eyes swollen in tears. And yet, without a doubt, he would see it all again, and then some. For the rest of his life. Until his eyes shrivel and fall out.

“If I could go back, knowing what I do now,” Naruto says. “I would do it all again. Go to the river and meet you. Over and over and over until my legs break off and the ends of my soul wither away. And even then, I would return as a spirit to meet you.”

Sasuke smiles, his hair unkempt and falling around his cheeks like some kind of dripping, turbulent crown. “I’ve never known you to be a poet.”

“Ero-Sennin has always been Senju’s poet,” Naruto says. “But I’d like to think I learned a few things from him.”

He reaches up and tucks his other hand behind Sasuke’s neck. His fingers, still cold from the night, dip below the collar of his yukata to trace his heated skin. Sasuke shivers. Naruto pulls him down.

Sasuke’s mouth is gentle, his tongue pressing against his lips, soft. Naruto pushes at him, lapping at his mouth, slowly, until Sasuke has his back against the furs and silks, dark hair splayed. He pulls away.

Naruto hovers above him, elbows sunken in silk, their legs tangled, watching in wonder at the way Sasuke tilts his chin up in protest, his eyes slipping open, lips parted, breath damp upon his cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Naruto says. He runs his fingers over the line of his jaw. “Just getting a good look at you.”

This is probably what Lee feels when he sees Sakura. Or even Neji, as serious as he is, when he sees Tenten. This kind of bubbly buoyancy that fills him to the brim. When he is with Sasuke, he is floating higher than all the clouds in the sky.

He wishes for more light, to see the blush of his swollen lips, the heated flush of his skin. But the shadows catch Sasuke with grace, stroking the straight of his nose, rolling over the set of his brow, settling around his loosened yukata and falling into his chest.

“You need to tie the himo tighter,” Naruto says, pulling at the collar and almost seeing shoulder. “It’s not supposed to be so open.”

“I only wear it loose to sleep.”

“Uh huh.”

“Kiss me,” Sasuke tries to say, but Naruto is already humming, running his lips over his jaw and lowering his head to sink his tongue into the dip of his collarbone.

Sasuke shudders against him, his fingers coming into his hair. They tug, but Naruto persists. Locks his lips over skin and sucks. Sasuke’s lungs are emptied of air.

Fingers tug again. Naruto’s head comes up, wearing some kind of lopsided grin that he presses into Sasuke’s cheek. Sasuke turns his head, shoves Naruto’s shoulder. He lands on his side with a surprised huff, a sliver of night peeking through the tent opening and shining across his face. His blue eyes are silver in the moonlight.

“I said, kiss me.”

Naruto pushes his lips to the point of his chin, murmuring into his skin. “I am.”

“On the mouth.”

The furs are soft against his cheek as he pulls back to look at Sasuke, the corners of his mouth turned up. His thumb comes to the plush of Sasuke’s bottom lip and he watches, mesmerized, as it gives way underneath his touch. He sinks his finger into the heat of Sasuke’s mouth, pressing against his soft tongue and retreating to swipe it across his lips, the trail of wetness making his skin glisten in the darkness.

Sasuke’s gaze is heavy, his eyes half-lidded. “Usuratonkachi—”

Naruto dives for him at last, crushing his lips to sweet sake. He drinks him until his head spins, drunk off the taste of his tongue, the warmth of his mouth. Sasuke’s hands sink into his yukata, pulling him closer and closer and closer.

Naruto moves, his lips still attached to Sasuke, rolling over him once again. His foot slips on silk. His hips fall. He freezes, his entire front heavy against the body below him. Sasuke breaks the kiss, his chest heaving against Naruto’s, eyes wide.

_He’s so hard._

He shifts, meaning to prop himself up, but his thigh pushes against that heated part of Sasuke and Sasuke’s mouth falls open into the shape of the moon. Naruto stills.

“Sasuke?”

“Hn?”

“You—you okay?”

“Mhm. ’Kay.”

When Naruto doesn’t move, still marveling at Sasuke’s incoherency, Sasuke pushes his hips up against him. The burst of heat in his groin snaps him back. Naruto interlaces his fingers into Sasuke’s hand and pushes it into the furs over his head. He presses a wet kiss into his neck, feels Sasuke’s pulse flutter against his lips.

His other hand follows the length of Sasuke’s side, feeling his muscles strain through his yukata. Naruto pulls at the loose, loose collar, pulls until one side nearly slips off his shoulder, and runs his palm over the expanse of his chest. Sweat gathers between his fingers. His thumb catches on the bump of a nipple.

Sasuke’s breath stops in his throat. Naruto pauses, then moves his thumb in circles over it, watching Sasuke turn his cheek into the futon and sink his teeth into his lip.

_I wonder…_

Naruto lowers his head and places his lips over the raised, brown skin. He thrusts his hips down as he sucks, closing his teeth around it, lapping. Sasuke’s back rises from the futon. His eyes are pulled shut, his dark brows curved. The cotton of Naruto’s yukata threatens to tear in his grasp.

“ _Naruto_.” Sasuke’s voice is half sound, half breath. “Naruto, I—”

Naruto covers his mouth with a hand, bending forward to press his cheek against Sasuke’s. Their skin is damp and sticky. “Shh, I’m here,” he says. “I’m here.”

He presses a kiss to the shell of his ear, pushing his hips into Sasuke over and over until Sasuke arches and shudders, his eyes open wide, hair curled at his temples, a whimper caught in the palm of Naruto’s hand. Naruto memorizes the way Sasuke’s breath shatters into a thousand pieces.

* * *

They awaken at the sound of the tent flap being opened and closed. Naruto jerks his head up, alert. Sasuke is sitting up beside him.

“Sasuke-sama, apologies for the interruption.”

Kakashi stands at the opening, bowing his head at Sasuke. Naruto sees the flicker of his Sharingan when he lifts his gaze to look at them.

“Hatake-san,” Sasuke says. He sits with his back straight, his hands in his lap, but his voice is still heavy with sleep.

Even in the dark, Naruto catches the glance Sasuke throws at the two rags in the corner, which they had used to clean themselves after their earlier activities. Kakashi keeps his eyes forward, but Naruto knows he can smell it in the tent, smell it on them, thick as woolen clouds.

_Shit, how long were we asleep?_

“Dawn will break soon,” Kakashi says. “I suggest you reschedule your… Akatsuki business, before the camp rouses.”

_Shit. Shitshitshit._

Sasuke blinks. “Yes, of course. Thank you for the notice. Naruto was just leaving.”

“Ah, yes, I was.” Naruto scrambles from Sasuke’s futon and picks up his pack. He ties the black scarf back over his head.

Sasuke rises as well. “Hatake-san will see you out,” he says. “I will meet you at the river in five days’ time with further intel.”

Kakashi steps outside. When the flap has fallen back into place, Naruto folds Sasuke into his arms, inhales his scent.

“Five days,” he says into the skin of Sasuke’s neck. Places a chaste kiss there. “Sasuke- _sama_?”

Sasuke shoves him out the tent.


	8. Part 7: The Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Wow. I am terribly, terribly late with this update. A lot has happened since my last post, as I'm sure you are all aware. Even though I'm doing a great deal of social distancing, I have been busy with working and balancing time with my family. I hope that all of you are safe and well, and that one day it will be safe enough to go wherever you please and party once more. 
> 
> I kind of fell off the flow of this story for a little while. Just wanted to give a shoutout to pattycake17 for your kind comment. You gave me the push I didn't know I needed. I hope this chapter delivers. I've written it to be longer than my previous chapters to (somewhat) make up for the long hiatus. Thanks again for reading. I appreciate all of you!

Naruto walks to Kakashi’s left, and keeps up with his pace just enough to catch red flits of his Sharingan. The sky is still dark, but the blackness has begun to waver. The birds have not yet sung their first notes. He feels as if he is waiting, like them, watching for the first rays of sun to cut through sky.

“The Uchiha look down upon unions that cannot bear children,” the man says. Naruto jumps. He had not expected for him to speak. “Such is the consequence of a war-ridden clan. I suspect the Senju must be the same.”

Naruto has no words. He tries to read Kakashi’s expression, but his features are hidden behind his mask. Kakashi carries the same, thick air of nonchalance, keeping his eyes trained ahead. He has the walk of a man who has seen too much, his strides long and wide, as if there is a faraway place he hoped to get to so that he could rest.

“You want to be written into history scrolls,” Kakashi continues. “Sung about by children. Remembered. It is the birthright of men like you, the dreams of men like me.”

They are standing at the perimeter of the camp. Kakashi’s partner is nowhere to be seen.

“I couldn’t really care less—” Naruto begins.

“But you do,” Kakashi says.

“And what if I do?”

“There are no songs sung of the living.”

Naruto turns to him, and for the first time, there is a glint of something else in the man’s two-colored gaze. He can’t quite place it.

* * *

“Well?” Hashirama looks up when Naruto slides open the shoji door to the Uzumaki House of Senju. He is sitting at the table with Minato and Kushina, and dressed in a light yukata, having just arrived from the Commandant Quarters in anticipation of Naruto’s return. They are sipping tea, the steam wafting from porcelain cups in billowing waves.

“It’s done,” Naruto says. “I have arranged a safe time and location for collecting Uchiha intel.”

“Well done.” Hashirama nods. “In the time that you were gone, we have received a response from Sunagakure. Temari of Suna will set out soon for a three-moon visit. Perhaps you should greet her at the border of the Land of Rivers, in a few days.”

“I will,” Naruto says. “I’ve also been able to confirm that Uchiha war efforts are being concentrated at the frontlines. Their camp is beyond full.”

“Seems like we need to begin moving if we want to keep up,” Minato says. “We’ll call for a clan meeting tomorrow.”

“Ah, that reminds me,” Kushina says. She has her hands wrapped around her teacup for warmth. “Gai-san asked for you to meet him early tomorrow morning. It seems he has arranged a new wardrobe for you and would like you to wear it to the meeting.”

“Yes, yes,” Hashirama says. “I’m coming along for the fitting.”

Naruto brightens. “Does it look good? Have you seen it?”

Kushina laughs. “It’s very… one of a kind.”

* * *

Head General Maito Gai of Senju, ever so driven by Naruto’s youth and spirit, takes it upon himself to fashion a set of golden armor complete with the crests of Uzumaki and Senju.

“This is….” Naruto begins, staring at his reflection in the bronze mirror and stretching out an arm. The shine of the armor temporarily blinds him.

_Very bright._

Behind him, Gai stretches forward in anticipation of his opinion, hands clasped against his chest, eyes glinting.

“Great,” Naruto finishes.

“So wonderfully youthful! Fitting for our new Commander-in-Training,” Gai cries. He places his hands on Naruto’s shoulders. “They’re going to call you ‘The Sun’ in battle. What a youthful, youthful name!”

Gai punches Naruto a little too hard in the side to test the armor’s effectiveness. Hashirama spits out his tea in laughter.

* * *

Naruto opens the scroll. Senju warriors, lined up by rank, stand silent before him. He glances at Hashirama and upon receiving a nod, clears his throat and begins.

“In light of the new pursuit of peace, four-man teams will be arranged and allocated to different assignments. The teams in sentry under Tobirama-sama, frontlines under Minato-sama and Jiraiya-sama, and training under Gai-sama will rotate every half moon. The teams in supply delivery and training will rotate every moon. I, Commander-in-Training, will be leading a new team assigned specifically for dealings with the Akatsuki. This team will, in the meantime, rotate through sentry, frontlines, and training when we are not with Akatsuki. Medics will rotate, as usual, between frontlines and home, and will be assigned by Tsunade-sama. Please refer to the scroll for your assignments. Meeting adjourned.”

He turns, his throat dry, and tacks the scroll onto a tree. The warriors collect around him to view their new assignments.

“We’re not on the same team anymore?” Kiba cries. He swings his arm around Naruto’s neck, reading the list of names. “You’ve left us!”

“That’s because he’s important now,” Tenten says, elbowing Naruto in the rib. “Your new team’s got you… Shikamaru… who’s Temari of Suna?”

* * *

She arrives at the border with the same force as the Southern wind, her golden hair fastened into four sections, bouncing as she walks, her face bright in excitement. A large, metal heavy fan is fastened to her back with a sash, clinking with her steps. Her arms open wide when she spots Naruto.

“There are so many trees!” she exclaims, laughing and pulling Naruto into a hug. “Honestly, I had my doubts, but this is incredible!”

Shikamaru dips his head at her when they come apart. “Pleasure to meet you. I am Nara Shikamaru of Senju,” he says. “Advisor-in-Training to Naruto. Welcome to the team.”

Her eyes shine deep as the finest jade. “Advisor-in-Training? Team?”

“Yep,” Naruto says. “We’ll get you up to speed.”

Temari is quick in her walk. Not in the way of insects, who fill the space with rapid, tiny steps, but in the way of horses, though somewhat lacking their grace, pushing hard against the ground with each step. It is the walk of someone used to sinking into sand. Naruto and Shikamaru struggle to keep up as they discuss recent developments with Senju and the Akatsuki.

Shikamaru maintains a brisk pace, hopping over roots and small shrubs. “I know the arrangement involves more trade than anything, but I think it would be beneficial if you also got involved with the strategy—”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to get out of Sunagakure?” Temari asks. Shikamaru opens and closes his mouth. “I’ll answer that for you—hard. Gaara’s usually the one sent out. This’ll keep me interested, and strengthen our alliance while I’m at it. I mean—green is my favorite color—and look how much green there is here—what’s that?”

Naruto looks. “A squirrel.”

“My—the tail! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Shikamaru takes in a breath then, and Naruto bites his tongue to brace for a ‘troublesome’ comment. Instead, his future advisor asks, “Have you ever seen a rabbit?”

* * *

He barely hears the shoji door to the library slide open, sifting through a pile of scrolls he had pulled from the shelves.

“Naruto!” his mother says when she spots him sitting in the aisle. She places the scrolls she had brought in back to their places, and selects a few new ones. His father joins her. “I thought you were training. What are you doing here?”

Naruto barely looks up. He has the Scroll of Ashura open and is scanning the lines. “Nothing.”

“Reading history?” Minato takes a seat next to him on the tatami and leans over. He holds a battle scroll in his hands, likely in preparation for his departure in a few days time. “Brushing up on your ceremonial songs of Ashura?”

“Ah,” his mother says. “I remember how much you loved Ashura—oh, and the one about the Forest Spirits. You used to sing that all the time.”

“Do you think I want to be written into history?” Naruto asks. He looks from his mother to his father.

“What do you mean?” Minato asks, at the same time that Kushina replies, “Yes.”

They both turn to her.

“All you warriors do.” She shrugs. “Everyone does.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s easier for you, given your inheritance.”

Minato gestures at the two piles of scrolls in front of them. “So, which ones have you already gotten through?”

Naruto points at the pile to his right. What he doesn’t tell his father is that he hadn’t been sorting the scrolls into Unread and Read. He’d been sorting them from Unread into Tragic Endings and Happy Endings. He’s yet to come across a song of a hero who both kept his sanity and lived to old age.

_What would I look like? What would I be?_

It isn’t hard to imagine. Himself, wide-eyed and insane, his hair hanging from his head like dry soba. A katana or two swinging from his hip, broken and dull. His lips sucked into his mouth, his teeth blackened in his gums.

_And Sasuke—would I still have him, even in madness?_

* * *

Naruto can tell from the dust of her yukata that she has only just returned from the frontlines. He can see from the bruised skin under her eyes that she hasn’t slept in at least two nights.

Karin.

Her colors, usually loud and bright as the Uzumaki name, are muted and foggy. Her hair is tied back with a ribbon, pulling against her scalp. Her mouth is tight as she steps out from the Commandant Room, but she angles her head respectfully as Jiraiya speaks to her.

Naruto doesn’t need to hear Jiraiya’s words to know what they are discussing. He waits for the old man to leave, before intercepting her on her way to the Infirmary.

“Karin!” he calls, skipping over.

She looks even more exhausted up close. Loose hair is plastered with sweat against her cheeks. Dried blood, dark as mud, is streaked across her neck. Her eyes soften a little when she sees him.

“What is it?” she asks.

Naruto doesn’t know how to begin. “I—uh—saw you coming out of the Commandant Room, with Jiraiya-sensei—”

“Oh.” She makes to turn from him, but Naruto blocks her path. “Jiraiya-sama specifically asked me not to discuss it with you.”

“Did he?”

“Naruto—look—I’m tired. I can’t remember the last time I slept,” she sighs, rubbing her palm against her forehead. “Could you save it for—”

“No,” Naruto says. All hesitation has left him. “I can’t. I need to know—”

“You already do,” Karin says. Her voice hardens. “They’re marrying me off as soon as they get rid of Danzo. To that second Uchiha heir. Sasuke.”

The warmth leeches from him. He hates the sound of Sasuke’s name falling from her mouth. Wrong. Not hers. Hates that that might be the sound falling from her mouth for the rest of her life, that it would be the sound Sasuke would hear for the rest of his.

“You can’t,” Naruto says.

_It should be me._

Karin takes a step back.

“I don’t _want_ to be sent off like some kind of broodmare, okay?” she spits. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Naruto bites his tongue. Tenten had mentioned Karin fancying some Senju warrior the last time they had been in the Infirmary. She wouldn’t just willingly stroll into a marriage with Uchiha. While Sasuke had seemed somewhat calm with the arrangement, Karin’s disagreement is open and brash. Her anger is the same color as his own—Uzumaki red. This, Naruto could work with.

“I’ll get you a choice,” he says.

Karin shrugs. His pressing need to be involved may be confusing to her, but she doesn’t question it. “How?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

She doesn’t look like she believes him, but she nods. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says.

He watches her step into the Infirmary, her arms rigid with her gait, elbows pulled against her body. He hears the clear bell of Sakura’s voice through the open door as she welcomes Karin back. Naruto wishes he was fighting for the honor of his cousin, but his motives are entirely selfish.

_I will not lose him._

* * *

Sasuke calls his name before Naruto sees him. He had been skipping stones against the river. It is slower today, friendly with the flattened rocks, no longer swollen from rain. Six beats against the water before it lands on the other side.

He turns, the white of the sun soft against his cheeks, the smile on Sasuke’s face bright against the trees. Naruto wants to open his arms, to run into him, but behind Sasuke is another man, his face washed with scars.

Naruto had once seen him in the dark of the Uchiha camp. Under the sun, the man’s scars are less prominent, the ridges of his skin not falling into twisting shadows. He still wears a cloth patch over his left eye.

Naruto hadn’t been expecting anyone else. His yukata is old and worn, his feet bare. He dips his head in greeting at the man, and the man returns the gesture, a pleasant smile across his face.

“Pleasure to meet you at last, Naruto-sama,” the man says. “I am Uchiha Obito. Sasuke’s uncle.”

 _Ah—so_ this _is Obito._

“The pleasure is mine, Obito-san,” Naruto says. “I hope your travels have been smooth. My apologies at the lack of a proper reception on Senju land.”

Obito chuckles, shaking his head. “We can drop the formalities. I’m not a formal man—unlike my friend, Kakashi. He tells me you two had met?”

Naruto nods. He sneaks a glance at Sasuke, who has the edges of his mouth curled in amusement.

Obito laughs. “Something about your face tells me he must have been _extra_ unpleasant.” He waves his hand in the air. “Don’t worry about him. He means no harm.”

There’s an awkward silence. Kakashi has one of the highest Senju kill counts in Uchiha ranks. Obito seems to realize this immediately, and pulls a few scrolls from his satchel, unrolling them.

“Anyways,” he says quickly. Clears his throat. “Let’s get to it. This location is secure?”

“Yes,” Naruto says, and the three of them take their seats on the grass.

“These plans haven’t been reported to Nagato yet,” says Sasuke. “We wanted to confirm them with you first, but we should still meet with Akatsuki once a moon.”

Obito unrolls a scroll of battle plans and keeps the edges down with a few pebbles. The markings on the paper are sparse and few in between.

“This barely accounts for a third of your military movement,” Naruto says.

“Yes,” says Obito. “You’d understand, though, if we feel a little hesitant to share all our plans at once.”

“The Senju want to help.”

“I know you do,” Obito says. “But I also know it might be a little harder to convince a few of your more—seasoned—warriors to help us.”

Tobirama and fallen tables make their way into Naruto’s mind. Obito has a point.

Sasuke gestures at the scroll. “These are our plans for the next moon,” he says. “I suggest moving Senju units away from the ambushes. Let us fail a few times. Drop the morale and turn a few warriors against Danzo.”

Naruto stares at the dark ink and looks at Sasuke. “We can’t move all our units away. It would raise suspicions and Danzo would begin looking for the spy—he’s already caught you digging around once.”

“Exactly,” Obito says. “You won’t be moving _every_ unit away.”

It takes Naruto a moment, but the realization hits him hard. He shakes his head.

“I’m not going to choose who lives and who dies,” he says.

“You must,” Obito says. “As we will. These are battles. We have to think of the war.”

“I’m not a god,” Naruto says. “I’m supposed to be Senju Commander—I can’t be a leader to a mother knowing I deliberately sent her son to die.”

“That’s what all wars are,” Obito says. “Old men sending the young to die for what they believe is right. But we have to do this. I don’t want it any more than you do.”

Obito looks kind behind his scars. Naruto wonders what it is like to be his friend. He wonders why this man had given Kakashi one of his eyes when Kakashi had one that worked just fine. Not a Sharingan, but still a seeing eye nonetheless.

Naruto reaches for his own scroll, unrolling it and setting a shard of charcoal to the paper. He circles four teams, crosses out another three. Aligns the page to the Uchiha plans. Obito glances at Sasuke, who nods slowly and uses his own piece of charcoal to copy Naruto’s plans.

“If we can somehow keep this from Jiraiya-sensei, I’d appreciate it,” Naruto says. “My team and I will bear the burden.”

His hands are trembling. He sees Sasuke move as though to reach for him, but stop short under Obito’s gaze.

“Thank you,” Obito says quietly. “The next time around, we’ll be meeting with Akatsuki to exchange plans. Sasuke, will you catch him up on the rest?”

As Obito packs up the plans, Sasuke speaks. “Most of our warriors are now pushed to the frontlines. Itachi is still trying to gather those who oppose Danzo. It’s been difficult, but we’re growing in number. Nagato and Konan are working on drafting the peace proposal, in writing, so we’ll have something to refer to once the war is over—”

“And once you’re married off.”

“Naruto—”

“I spoke with Karin,” Naruto says. He knows it isn’t Sasuke’s fault, but he can’t help himself. He finds peace in the spark in Sasuke’s eyes. “Hashirama-ojisama’s confirmed it with your brother and given his approval.”

“Look,” Obito cuts in. “The only people who have experienced peace between our two clans are Hashirama-sama and Madara-sama. And even then, it hadn’t been for very long. We’re new to this. We’re fighting for peace, but we don’t know how to keep it. There are agreements being made, but plans can change. We just need these agreements to help us move forward for now.”

Naruto and Sasuke are silent. Obito looks at them and sighs.

“Very well,” he says. He rises from his seat on the grass, his scrolls tucked away. “I’ll leave you two be for a moment. Sasuke, you’ll find me in the trees over there.”

Sasuke nods.

“Don’t be long,” Obito says. “Kakashi’s meeting us at midnight.”

“I know,” Sasuke says.

Naruto rolls his scroll into his own satchel and watches Obito weave between the trees until he is out of sight.

“Does he know?” Naruto asks. “About us.”

Sasuke watches the trees where Obito had been. “He has his theories.”

“Kakashi knew.”

“He walked in on us.”

“Oh, yeah. I won’t be forgetting that anytime soon.”

A small smile dances across Sasuke’s lips. “Hatake-san and Obito are… close.”

“Oh. Like us?”

“I don’t know,” Sasuke says. “They keep it quiet.”

Naruto uproots a few blades of grass. They come up with splashes of dirt and a single worm. It wriggles furiously, diving its head away from the sunlight, working its pink body underneath the grass. He watches, sprinkling dirt back over it. When he was younger, he had almost always been able to read Sasuke. Happy Sasuke, sad Sasuke, angry Sasuke. Surprised, indignant, afraid—all of it. Sasuke is still familiar—he is still _Sasuke_ —but so much has changed. Naruto wonders if he has changed, too.

_The two boys in the forest—where have we gone?_

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just—I don’t want to lose you.”

“I know,” Sasuke says.

“Peace is supposed to bring us together, not tear us apart.”

“But we will be together—”

“Not if you’re _married_ , teme.”

“Naruto—”

“I just want to see you angry—to see you less calm about the marriage—about all of _this_ —”

“ _Naruto_.” Sasuke grabs his wrist, his grip tight. “Usuratonkachi. I _am_ angry, all the time. I’m still trying to figure everything out.”

Sasuke’s hands are warm, his eyes dark and steady. Naruto has the sudden urge to cry and scream.

“Nothing has ever been fair for you,” Naruto says.

“You have been,” Sasuke says. “You are.”

“Don’t say that.” Naruto shakes his head. “I left you in the forest, waiting for me—I never—”

“You were a kid. An heir in a war. You were doing the best you could—you still are. And that’s enough.”

He wraps himself around Sasuke, the force of him toppling them a few steps back. The air leaves Sasuke in a huff of surprise, but his arms come around Naruto and hold him close.

“I’m going to find a way to break that marriage,” Naruto says when he pulls away. “They’re going to have to un-approve it. And I’d be saving you from a lifetime of dread with _Karin_.”

Sasuke laughs. He leans in and kisses Naruto softly. “And,” he says. “I suppose a lifetime with you would be less dreadful?”

“ _Much_ less.”

* * *

Hashirama had given Naruto use of his own tea room for his work in Akatsuki liaisons. It’s a large room just off the main Commandant Room, spacious and finely filled with a tea table, silk pillows, and to Shikamaru’s delight, a shogi set. Naruto had returned after the sky had darkened and beelined for the room, summoning Shikamaru and Temari. Earlier, he and Sasuke had taken so long in their farewells that Obito had to re-emerge from the forest to rush them. He’d cut off his story about feeling life energies with toads in Myobokusan and waved them goodbye. Naruto had watched Sasuke disappear into the trees, then watched the trees until the sun set and he could no longer make out one branch from another. Only then did he remember to return.

In the room, Temari is eager to get started with battle strategy, shifting her knees against the pillows as Naruto unrolls the scroll against the table. The candlelight dances over her light features, washing them in a sea of honey. Shikamaru’s gaze on Naruto is quiet and still. His hands are wrapped around his cup of tea, but he hasn’t taken a sip yet. Naruto finds it unsettling. Tea is meant to be drunk, not held.

“What’s wrong?” Shikamaru asks.

He clears his throat. “I—uh—there isn’t much planning to do tonight,” he says. “I already made the decisions this time around. We’ll meet with Obito and Sasuke together next time, in a moon from now.”

“I’m going to be your advisor,” Shikamaru says. “Let me advise.”

“I’m in this team, too,” Temari says. She raises her brow. “But I’ll let it go this time.”

Naruto sighs.

“One moon is a long time,” Temari points out. “A lot can happen in a moon.”

“I know,” Naruto says. “We’ll meet the Uchiha together, at the Akatsuki hideout every moon. And I’ll meet with Sasuke on my own every half moon, for updates.”

She nods. “My leave from Sunagakure is three moons, no more. I’d have to return in order to extend the time, and with a good deal of wood for trade. And that—” she waves her hand. “—is going to waste even more time.”

“Getting the wood won’t be hard,” Naruto says.

“I know—you live in a forest,” Temari says. “We’ll be able to bring you forged iron. It’s the travel time I’m worried about.”

“Hopefully this doesn’t drag on much longer,” Shikamaru says.

There is a pause.

“Though it probably will,” he adds.

Another pause. A white moth flies in shaky circles around one of the candles, throwing shadows over the walls.

Temari clears her throat. “Well?”

“I was given Uchiha battle plans,” Naruto says. “Not all, but about a third of their ambushes. I’ve selected the teams to redirect.”

“How many?” Shikamaru asks. He swats at the moth and misses. The fire goes out. The moth circles to another candle.

“Three,” says Naruto. He runs his finger over his markings on the scroll. “Out of seven.”

Shikamaru is a talented shogi player. One of the best in Senju. It only makes him better at the game of war. “Almost half. That’s risky.”

“You think I’d like to send more of my men to die?” Naruto rakes his fingers through his hair.

“That’s not what he means,” Temari says. “You know that.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. He’d been snappy since his encounter with Karin, his temper hot as melted blades.

Shikamaru shakes his head. “I know you’ve made a difficult decision today,” he says. “What I’m saying is that you won’t have to make these decisions alone.”

Naruto tries to smile. He knows it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“All of this stays between the three of us,” he says. “I don’t want anyone else having to worry about making these decisions. Especially Jiraiya-sensei.”

“I was never one for secrets in politics,” Shikamaru says. “But I agree. Involving more people will complicate things. Too many feelings.”

Temari has her face in her hands, any initial excitement in planning gone.

“Senju warriors are strong,” Shikamaru continues. “It’s how you’ve all held up so well in the war before Hashirama made alliances. Ambushes aren’t always successful, but we have to be careful not to set off a line of doubt in Danzo’s mind. If he catches the fact that we know, it’s over.”

Naruto clicks his tongue. “I’m going to meet the first ambush with the others, in two nights,” he says, pointing at the circle deepest in Senju territory. “I won’t be long. Two days, three with travel. I’ll be back before the second meeting with Sasuke.”

Shikamaru shakes his head. “Naruto—”

“He’s got a point,” Temari says, slamming her hand against the table. “We need the ambush to happen, but we don’t need to let them win all the ones that do.”

“It’s only the first one,” says Naruto. “Let’s knock down their morale a bit.”

“Fine,” Shikamaru says. “But I’m coming too.”

“So am I—”

“No,” Naruto says, turning to Temari. “You’re here for trade and strategy, _not_ battle.”

“That’s insulting,” she snaps. Her eyes are sharp. “I’m coming.”

“From a diplomatic perspective, it wouldn’t look good if you got injured here,” Shikamaru says. She turns to glare at him, green eyes narrowed and sharp. He holds up his hands. “Okay—okay, fine. You’ll train with us tomorrow, then we’ll see.”

* * *

“Naruto,” Hashirama says. “What is this?”

Naruto has his forehead pressed into the tatami of the Commandant Room, his knees planted into the floor. He’d put on his best kimono, and washed his hair twice the night before. It has been many nights since he’d spoken to Karin. Long, long nights. With the growing Uchiha ranks on the frontlines and adding Senju efforts in retaliation, getting a private audience with his grandfather had been hard. But now Hashirama sits at his desk, all of his attention on Naruto, his cup of tea forgotten in his shock.

“I have a request,” Naruto says, keeping his head bowed. He feels selfish—taking the Commander’s time like this. But his mind is searing with the thought of finally being able to be with Sasuke after the war, only to lose him to an arranged marriage. Peace—the very thing he is fighting for—would take away one of his most precious people.

“You have made many requests in the past, and none of them on your knees,” says Hashirama. “What is it?”

“I ask that you break the agreement of the marriage between Senju and Uchiha.”

“The decision has already been made.”

“Please,” Naruto says. Squeezes his eyes shut. “I beg you.”

“Warriors do not beg,” Hashirama says. “Not even for our lives. Where is your honor? Get up.”

He doesn’t move.

“Get _up_.”

“I am willing to give up my honor,” Naruto says. “I am willing to give up my inheritance, my humanity—I only ask that you break the marriage.”

“I don’t believe you are on your knees only to save your cousin from an arranged marriage,” Hashirama says. “We are joining your friend and your cousin in an arrangement that will keep peace. This will make your life easier once you become Commander. Why are you so against this?”

“Karin doesn’t want this,” Naruto tries. “Neither does Sasuke.”

“I understand your empathy, Naruto,” Hashirama says. “But the peace between our clans is more important right now. The marriage is _necessary_. Sasuke and Karin—their sacrifices will be remembered, and their bond will ensure the peace.”

“Maybe there’s another way,” Naruto tries. There’s no room for hesitation. He throws it out again. “The—friendship—between Sasuke and me—it is strong. Strong enough to maintain the peace.”

“Your friendship is not as strong as a marriage. Only the existence of mixed Senju and Uchiha blood will ensure the peace is kept,” Hashirama says.

_The children. Heirs. They want heirs._

His eyes begin to burn. “Sasuke and I will make a blood pact,” he says quickly, fumbling. “We—we’ll cut our hands and—join our blood. Senju and Uchiha. Blood brothers. If anyone hurts Sasuke, they’ll be hurting Senju. If anyone hurts me, they will hurt Uchiha.”

Hashirama is quiet. All Naruto can see are the blurry workings of bamboo in the tatami, but he can feel the weight of his grandfather’s thoughts. The tatami darkens with his stray tears.

 _Please_.

“And after you die? Your blood pact will bear no heirs.”

“Another Senju and Uchiha can make a new pact. But by then, our clan’s children will have grown to old men, and their children, to adults. They’ll have grown up knowing Uchiha as friends, not enemies.”

 _I am on my knees. I am begging_.

“You are assuming you will grow to old age, then.”

“I am.”

He’d been combing through the scrolls, upending the library for a great hero that did not lead a tragic life. And then he remembered—his own grandfather. The Great Commander, Senju Hashirama. Still alive and wise, and very much sane.

“Naruto, rise,” Hashirama says.

Perhaps it is the change in his tone, or the seedling of hope slowly blooming in Naruto’s own stomach, but Naruto finally lifts his head from the floor to meet Hashirama’s gaze. He doesn’t bother to dry his eyes.

“Why are you doing this?” Hashirama shakes his head, trying to understand. “Why risk your honor, threaten to give up your inheritance—for this arranged marriage that you are not a part of?”

The veins stretching underneath the skin of his hands are green. He tries to count them. When he was a child, he used to sit on his grandfather’s lap and tell him everything. Then, he met Sasuke, and Sasuke became his. The one secret Naruto could never share with anyone. “I have no answer for you.”

Naruto wonders if his grandfather already knows the answer.

“You’ve grown so much,” Hashirama says. “You have an Uzumaki heart. Your feelings run deep and whole. It’s what I love about your mother and your grandmother.” He pauses, takes a breath. “I will not break the agreement, but I will consider your proposal. At the end of the war, if Itachi-san agrees, I will let you decide what you will do to keep new peace.”

* * *

Sweat falls from the ends of Temari’s flaxen hair and leaves darkened circles on the dirt of the training ground. She’s panting, holding her arms up in front of her in defense, her fan on the other end of the arena. Naruto’s katana is in the same state, standing blade-first in the ground and out of reach.

“It’s a draw,” Kiba says from the side, voice dripping with awe. “Huh—who knew a peaceful village would train their warriors so well?”

Naruto straightens from his position and bows. He’d fought his fair share of foreigners in his travels, but since his return, he’d once again gotten used to the Uchiha style of combat.

“Good spar,” Naruto says. “I’ve never sparred with someone who fights with a fan.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Temari smiles. “So, does this mean I get to come?”

Naruto, mouth open in a toothy grin, turns to Shikamaru. He nods.

Temari cheers as she moves to the other end of the arena and picks up her fan, dusting it off. It’s as long as her legs, metal edges gleaming in the sunlight.

“Alright,” she says, cocking her hip and resting a hand on her standing fan. “Who’s next?”

“Me!” Kiba cries, throwing his hand into the air, but Neji has already stepped forward.

“A Hyuuga,” Temari says. She wipes her sleeve across her brow. “You look like fun.”

Kiba grumbles something under his breath and plops himself on the ground next to Naruto, flicking a stray pebble and shaking out his hand in pain.

“Dammit, I already told Neji I wanted to go next,” he mumbles, sticking his finger in his mouth.

“Isn’t your arm still—”

“Well, kinda, but it’s practically good as—”

“Hey, kiddo.”

Naruto turns. “Ero-sennin.”

“Can I have a word with you?”

“Yeah.” He rises from his seat after Kiba waves him off and follows Jiraiya to a tree in the corner of the training grounds. “What is it?”

The old man tilts his head, his white mane big as ever. “Hashirama told me about your proposal.”

“Oh.”

“I want to apologize for the way I acted when we were with the Akatsuki,” Jiraiya says. “And I suspect you heard about the agreement from Karin. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself.”

Naruto shakes his head. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do,” Jiraiya says. He places a hand on Naruto’s shoulder. “I know how much this means to you. I’m not blind, Naruto. I’ve seen you and Sasuke together. The way you look at one another—something tells me you two were familiar before your so-called first meeting at the hideout.”

Naruto shakes his head, sneaking a glance at his friends and feeling relieved to find they were still engrossed in the spar. “That doesn’t mean—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Jiraiya shakes his head. “I’ve traveled much and seen a lot. I know Senju tradition isn’t exactly lenient when it comes to… certain relationships. I want you to know that I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you.” He lets out a breath. It’s as if a weight has been lifted from his chest.

“Oof!”

Jiraiya and Naruto turn at Temari’s voice. She’s on the ground, the dirt across her face turning to mud with her sweat, Neji standing over her with his katana at her chest. Her arm is red with fresh blood.

Kiba pumps his fists into the air. “Yes, Neji-taichou! _Yes!_ Show her some Senju skill!”

“Oi!” Naruto runs over, but Shikamaru makes it before him, looking purple as he knocks Neji’s sword arm aside.

“She’s supposed to head out tomorrow!”

Neji looks apologetic. “Sorry, I’m not used to the fan—I overextended.”

“For fuck’s sake, Neji—”

Temari laughs. “Small cut. I’m fine, and really—” she picks herself up from the ground and holds out her hands. “—about time someone started taking me seriously.”

Naruto slams a hand to his forehead. “Oh, thank—”

“You!” Temari points a finger to his face. “You went easy on me, didn’t you? Specifically after I told you not to!”

“I, uh….” Naruto, caught, opens and closes his mouth like some kind of blank-eyed fish. He shares a glance with Kiba, who blows his cheeks out and mimics an angry Shikamaru, before bursting into a fit of high-pitched giggles alongside everyone else.

* * *

The ambush hits fast. Five units of Uchiha—at least twenty warriors—descend upon them the way wolves hunt for prey. The Senju reinforcement unit of only fourteen warriors is smaller, but they were no rabbits. Shikamaru had insisted on bringing Neji, Lee, and Tenten along, filling their ears with some story about needing heavier reinforcements. They’d come, seasoned warriors making up for the rest of the greener ones.

They’d be able to hold themselves.

Naruto closes his mind and lets himself fall into the rhythm of battle, the familiar song of metal against metal erupting the silence, the heat of Kurama flaring up inside him. His senses are heightened. Behind him, he hears the patter of quick feet against the forest floor, the whistle of a katana slicing air, and turns to face his attacker—

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

Kakashi is in his face, his Sharingan eye closed over his mask. The combination of Gai’s armor and Kurama’s aura is blinding to any crimson-eyed warrior.

Naruto lowers his katana, Kurama’s warmth fading. “Fighting.”

“Don’t get smart with me,” Kakashi snaps. He shoves Naruto behind a tree, the movement tearing Naruto’s gaze from Kakashi’s eyes to his katana, already dripping with blood. “Oi, Obito!”

And suddenly, Obito is there, peering over Kakashi’s shoulder. In another world, this would’ve been an innocent glance, even cute in the second where his eye is round and curious before narrowing into a slit. Somewhere in the back of Naruto’s mind, he wonders if he would have been able to hear Sasuke call him over the numbing sounds of battle.

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“We do,” Naruto says. “You needed to land an ambush, and you did. You don’t need to win.”

“We can’t return with a failed ambush and all our men _alive_ ,” Obito says.

Kakashi turns to Obito and hisses, “You didn’t think to confirm this with him when you met up?”

Obito doesn’t answer. It’s odd, standing behind a tree in silence with two quarreling Head Generals of Uchiha as the rest of the battle goes on.

“I should have gone instead,” Kakashi says, shaking his head.

“Well, you didn’t,” Obito says.

Kakashi turns back to Naruto. “Did Sasuke know about this?”

“No.” Naruto shakes his head immediately. “ _No_.”

“Obito, call it off,” Kakashi says. “We can’t finish this one.”

“We can—we have to.”

Kakashi gestures between the three of them. “We’re supposed to be working together. That’s not going to happen if I kill his Senju friend in front of him, is it? Call it off.”

“I can’t,” says Obito. “Danzo won’t like that you’re back without a count.”

For a moment, Naruto thinks he sees fear in the way Obito looks at his friend. Fear for him. Kakashi must see it too, because he shakes his head, his eyes curving gently over his mask in what must be a smile. “I don’t give a shit what he likes. I’ve earned my stay long ago.”

With a mumble that sounds a lot like “Bakashi,” Obito heads off into the battle, yelling orders. Kakashi turns to follow, but Naruto stops him.

“Wait, what do you mean, you ‘earned your stay’?”

Kakashi doesn’t look at him as he wipes his katana on his sleeve and slips it into its saya. “We all want to save lives, kid,” he says. “But you can’t save everyone. Try playing hero again and the whole plan will be fucked.”

* * *

Temari isn’t as fazed as Naruto had thought she’d be. Peaceful village or not, she’s holding up pretty well, considering it must have been her first experience with battle. He makes a mental note to give her more credit.

The failed ambush—a small Senju victory—had been one day ago. Naruto had led the reinforcement unit to the frontlines successfully. His father, the residing Head General at camp, had just arrived a few days before he did. Naruto had spent the night in his tent, sharing stories about his childhood and laughing over the dramatic shine of the armor Gai had fashioned for him. By sunrise, he and his small team were hauling packs over their shoulders, bidding Minato farewell and setting off.

“None dead,” Shikamaru says as they step around a fallen tree. The trunk looks soft with mold. He swats at a swarm of gnats.

“Impressive,” Temari says softly.

“It’s—” Naruto begins, breaking off when he realizes she isn’t speaking to them, but to the tree.

Temari takes the end of her fan and jams it against the trunk, watching the wood give way. Clumps of fat maggots, now exposed to sun, dig angrily into the shadows. A waft of sweet and bitter rot reaches their noses. They cover their faces and cough.

“What an odd smell,” Temari says over her sleeve. “Disgusting.”

“Things don’t rot in Sunagakure?” Shikamaru grimaces.

“They just dry up. It’s too hot.”

“Must be nice.”

Naruto has to swallow to prevent himself from gagging as he skips his way to stand by Shikamaru.

“None dead,” Shikamaru says again. “No Senju, no Uchiha. I think that’s a first in history.”

_Try playing hero again and the whole plan will be fucked._

The weight of his armor digs into his shoulders. Naruto lowers his eyes to the fallen trunk, watching as rats scuttled out the undergrowth to grab at the maggots with their clawed fingers and sink their teeth in.

“I shouldn’t have tried to keep this between us—we hardly know what we’re doing. In the future, we’ll run all our plans by Jiraiya-sensei and Hashirama-ojisama.”

* * *

Sasuke is leaning against the trunk of a tree, draped in a blue dougi and black hakama, his arms folded against his chest. The way his jaw is set makes Naruto tense.

“I fucked up,” Naruto says.

“You did.”

He winces. For some reason, he had thought Sasuke would offer comfort, but Sasuke is wound tight as a fresh knot. Naruto stands across him now, shifting on his feet, wanting to reach out but suddenly hesitant.

“They thought I knew about it. We did spend all that time without Obito, after.”

“I told them you didn’t.”

“I know you did,” Sasuke says. “They believe you. It just doesn’t feel good to be doubted.”

“Sasuke.” Naruto reaches for him now. Only for his hand. He takes it in his own, his palms warm and fingers cool, and runs his thumb over the callouses of his knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

Sasuke shakes his head, but he tightens his grasp on Naruto’s hand, his shoulders falling. “I know you want to protect your family. I can’t blame you for that, but we have to make sacrifices. It’s too sensitive with Danzo. One slip and he’ll notice. We’re going to have to hit harder to make up for that one.”

“I know,” Naruto says, biting his tongue. He suddenly remembers Obito’s fear, the way his mouth twisted when he looked at his friend. “Obito-san said Kakashi has to return with a count. What did he mean?”

Sasuke nods slowly. “Uchiha are strict when it comes to blood purity—it’s not a secret. You can’t bear the Uchiha name unless you are born into it. Or… at least before Danzo came along. Hatake-san saved Obito’s life, but it wasn’t enough. Obito gave him Sharingan, and it still wasn’t enough. So he had to prove his worth.”

“He fought for it,” Naruto finishes. “Literally.”

“Madara’s strict, but Danzo’s even worse,” Sasuke says. “He’s not even true Uchiha. It’s sick.”

“It is,” Naruto murmurs. He dips his chin so that he catches Sasuke’s eye and pushes his dark hair behind his ear. “But we’re working on it. We’ll fix this. I’ll do better next time.”

Sasuke pulls him close by the cotton of his yukata. Naruto lets him wrap his arms around him, squeezing. He can almost feel the knot inside Sasuke unwinding, free from its tangle. His hands flatten against Sasuke’s back, his knuckles grazing the bark of the tree trunk.

Sometimes it feels like Sasuke is falling away from him, falling to the war and to his family and to all the ends of the world that had been stolen from him. Part of Naruto knows it’s selfish to wish for the Sasuke in the forest, who was always there and never anywhere else, because the only person in his life had been Naruto.

Sometimes it feels like he is left running into that dark abyss where Sasuke falls, blind, grasping for branches that shatter underneath his touch and leave him with wispy splinters.

_It scares me, more than anything._

But in this moment, Sasuke is here, his fingers tight in Naruto’s yukata, his nose buried in his neck, his breath flowing over his skin like the warmest summer rain.

“I come bearing good news, too,” Naruto says, pulling back just enough to look at him.

“What is it?”

Sasuke brightens, his brows raised in anticipation, his mouth open and curved at the corners. Naruto can tell from the look in his eyes that they are both desperate to change the subject from Danzo.

He bites his lip to keep from giggling, pulls Sasuke from the tree, and shoves them both in the river. Sasuke bursts from the surface, his hair flattened against his head, hollering something Naruto doesn’t catch. He raises his arms and Naruto takes it as the cue to run.

Or try running, in the water. He’s flapping his arms and legs as hard as he can, but Sasuke has always been a better swimmer. He catches him from behind, his arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, legs coming around his own. Naruto thanks the spirits that he’s made it to the edge of the river, where it’s shallow enough that he doesn’t sink under Sasuke’s deadweight. He tries to drag them out, laughing even though there is water in his nose and it kind of stings. Sasuke tackles him again when they’re only halfway out.

The water is cold on his skin, but Sasuke is warm above him. His laughter is loud and deep and unrestrained. He’s got his fingers tangled in Naruto’s hair, his elbows digging into the pebbles at the riverbank, the river lapping at their legs.

_I could stare at this stupid face forever._

When no one is watching, their reunions are not unlike the way winter dives into spring. Headfirst, feet kicking up a storm, the world breaking with color.

“What is it?” Sasuke asks again, his voice still faint with his laughter. He traces a finger over the marks on Naruto’s cheeks.

“I think I did it,” Naruto says. It had been days since he’d gotten his grandfather’s answer, but the victory is still fresh. He feels like he could run across the entire ocean.

“Did what?”

“Got the un-approval for the marriage,” he says, wriggling away because the water is dripping from Sasuke into his eyes. “But we have to get to peace first. And after—if your brother agrees—we can make a blood pact instead.”

“A what?” Sasuke’s eyebrows raise. He follows Naruto’s movements and shakes his head wildly.

“Gah!” Naruto laughs and turns away from the onslaught of water to his face. “Well—Sasuke!—Kakashi and Obito got me thinking. Obito’s Sharingan makes Kakashi…an honorary Uchiha, right? He has a part of him.”

Sasuke stops moving. “You want us to trade eyes?”

“No!” Naruto shakes his head, new laughter bubbling from him. “But if we both cut our hands and hold them together, it’ll almost be like our blood is shared. Flowing through each other. I’ll have some of you and you’ll have some of me.”

“Senju and Uchiha,” Sasuke says. “Symbolically, of course, because I’m pretty sure that’s not how blood works—”

“Teme, I _know_ ,” Naruto says. He blinks one eye closed. “Ne, think I’ll get Sharingan from it?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes, his mouth curved into _that_ little smile, the one where he sinks his teeth into his lower lip because he wants to laugh but wants to preserve his dignity even more. It’s one of Naruto’s favorite smiles because he knows it’s taking all of Sasuke’s willpower not to feed his ego. His ego grows a little anyways. Sasuke pushes a wet kiss to his lips.

“It will always be you, usuratonkachi,” Sasuke says against his mouth.

There is a moment then, in a silence shoved aside with the sounds of Sasuke’s breath and bubbling water and singing birds, where Naruto lets himself close his eyes and feel the push and give of Sasuke’s body against his own. He wants to ask Sasuke what he means by that—just to hear him say it out loud—even though he knows.

Sasuke pushes him to the side, a smirk curved across his features. “Bet you I can beat you in a spar.”

“Sasuke, Sasuke,” Naruto laughs, shaking his head. “This meeting is for diplomatic purposes only.”

“Says the man who threw me into the river a moment ago.”

“Oh, yeah?” Naruto smiles. “Then I bet you _I’ll_ win.”

Sasuke runs his eyes down Naruto’s form. “You’re hardly dressed for a fight,” he says.

“You’ll need all the help you can get.”

They rise. Sasuke kicks off his soaked jikatabi to match Naruto’s own barefoot state, then bends at the waist in a bow. Naruto returns it. They spread their feet and raise their hands in sparring stances. Sasuke’s eyes flash to red.

Naruto is the first to move, eager to push Sasuke into defense. He comes at him with a series of kicks. Sasuke dodges with ease, stepping to the side or bending at the knees, the shining red of his eyes flitting over his movements. Naruto spins and delivers a kick to the shoulder, one that Sasuke blocks and mimics. Naruto swerves out of the way, then strikes with his palms in a move he takes from Neji. His wet yukata sticks to his skin, shortening his movements. The air leaves Sasuke’s lungs with a huff, but he manages to catch himself against the ground and send a foot into Naruto’s gut.

“Oof!”

He falls to the ground, his yukata darkening with dirt. Sasuke stands over him, his dougi and hakama just as stained, his face triumphant. Naruto props himself on his elbows.

“I win,” Sasuke says.

“Not bad, teme,” he says. “But you forgot something.”

Sasuke raises a brow. “And that is?”

Naruto hooks his foot over Sasuke’s ankle and kicks out to the side. Sasuke falls. The haughty look he had been wearing is replaced with one of pure surprise. Naruto catches him and flips them with his hand over the back of Sasuke’s head. He bends to his ear.

“I never said the fight was over,” Naruto says, and with an exaggerated growl, sinks his teeth over the shell of Sasuke’s ear.

Sasuke squeals with laughter. It is a sound Naruto has only ever heard once or twice in his life. His voice unguarded, pitched high, breaking with his laughs. His body wriggling underneath him. Naruto releases his ear, his own laughter making it hard to hold on.

Then Sasuke props his foot against the ground and pushes off, hard enough that the air escapes Naruto when he lands on his back. It does not return when Sasuke holds his wrists over his head and flattens his body against his own.

“Now it’s over,” Sasuke says. “I win.”

The hair framing his face brushes against Naruto’s cheeks. His eyes are dark once more, still curved with the echos of laughter.

“Teme.”

Sasuke kisses him with a smile and steals the breath from his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta say I'm a bit nervous to post again after such a long time. It's been a while since I've written for Summer Rain, and I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I've always found it hard to keep the imagery and descriptions fresh in chaptered stories. Hope this one wasn't too dry.
> 
> As always, any and all comments are appreciated! Let me know what you thought about this chapter. Thanks for taking the time to read!(:

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! (: I'll be updating every few days, since it's a story that's already written for the most part but is going through an editing process. Updates might take longer in the future, when I begin changing more of the plotlines! As always, if you enjoyed, feel free to leave a comment! They always make my day (:


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